My brother is getting married in two weeks. I have no idea how it went from my brother is getting married in two months to my brother is getting married in two weeks because I never meant to be so close to go time without the dress I planned to wear hanging in my closet.

But that’s a whole ‘nother bit of business.

First, the stagette. Which is next Friday and I now have the evening’s itinerary.

630: dinner

800: to nearby hotel (with lovely spa) where there is a room rented and pole dancing classes being taught in samesaid room to gaggle of drunk girls. Please prepare self to hear laughter all the way from where you are. Prepare to be kept awake by same.

But i have always wanted to learn.

1000: Limobus picks up gaggle of drunk now pole dancing capable girls for tour of nightclubs and more (no, duh) consumption of alcohol.

Later: back to hotel for more in house merriment. By this time I expect I will be about ready to go home. Because, honestly? Really? More? How could there be more? Plus, Dan will have installed a pole in our bedroom by then and so I will have to show off my newfound talents as soon as I get home.

The stag is tomorrow. I wonder if the guys are going to learn some sort of Full Montyesque moves to share when they get home. I mean our party keeps on giving. What is their silly paint ball going to do for us girls? Long term?