Each year, myself and two of my girlfriends, Marni and Leisa, plan a girls' weekend. Last year we went to Atlantic City to check out The Fray. This year, we're going to Vegas to hang out with The Script. Yes, I said hang out WITH The Script. You see, both of my girlfriends work in the music industry and they're like crazy connected. I get that I'm incredibly lucky, but before you judge, know that I'll be so tongue twisted I won't be able to have an intelligent conversation. That's a given. Plus, since they're Irish, my plan is to drink lots of beer... Just like the other Irish girls they're used to. And I'm not stereotyping, because I AM Irish... Actually Irish/German to be exact. Hence, I get to drink beer and blame my inability to speak coherently on my apparent level of social lubrication. But that's not what this post is about. Nope, this post is about the fact that I'm flying to Vegas BY MYSELF to meet the girls... Which, in and of itself, isn't a problem. Before I got married, I took off whenever the mood struck, but now I'm all married and stodgie. Actually, I still wouldn't think twice about all of this... But them  I read this lovely story... Boeing didn't expect 737 cracks so soon... Are you freaking kidding me? Please say a little prayer for me... Unless you're just that ticked off that I get to go to Vegas with my girls and The Script;) Thank you Epic Records!