But not until Sunday. I'm getting really excited about seeing Angry Dissenter in Vegas while I attend an oncology nursing conference. It's work and play!
The Hater is sad that he can't come with me. Frankly, me, too. My boss had said that he could come, too, and share the hotel room. We'd only have to pay for airfare... But he has to work. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
I don't gamble. It's not that I have ethical problems with it or relate it to the Romans playing dice for Jesus' clothes. I just get bored. Slot machines give me a headache; I don't like sitting at a table, waiting hours for a good hand in poker; The other card games are rigged for the house, and I like to have more of a chance to actually win. So it's safe to say that I won't be losing our savings to the strip.
However, The Hater has plans to send me with some of his poker money. He's dreaming about phone conversations with baseball parlays. That word amuses me because I always think of the french word, parle (with an accent on the end), the verb that means "to speak". I bet I can still conjugate it. (je parle, tu parle, elle/il parle, nous parlons, vous parlez, elles parles)
And Mom and Dad said I'd never use French! Zut allors!
Today I'm sporting some new shoes with my scrubs. I want to try to break them in before the trip. They don't exactly match, but that's never bothered me before. I'd be more bothered with blisters sans bandaids.
I won't have internet access while I'm gone... but I'm not leaving until Sunday.
Which means I'll be packing either late Saturday night or in a rush Sunday morning...
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