June 11, 2003 Hey kids! Tomorrow morning, I will be on a plane to Las Vegas. And, no, we are not getting married. See, Holden and I were talking about the seven years we’ve been together (or, well, *mostly* been together) and it occurred to us that in all that time, we’ve never been on a significant trip. I mean, we've spent a couple weekends at my uncle’s condo on the Jersey shore, but that doesn’t count. That’s like saying, “Sure, I’ve gone out for a steak dinner. I’ve been to Outback.” So since Holden’s unemployment just got extended until the end of the year and he also just got the rest of his student loan money, we figured we should go on a trip. Ah, the dole and Sallie Mae, we’d never do anything if it weren’t for the largesse of the state and federal governments. We picked Vegas because I’ve never been there (and have always wanted to go, ever since I watched Crime Story.) and Holden loves it there and it seems like a trip that's manageable in four days. Of course, there may be those of you who are questioning the soundness of going to Las Vegas when your significant other has a slight (or maybe not so slight) gambling problem, but hey, if I didn’t do risky, reckless things, then I just wouldn’t be me now, would I? Besides, Holden made a pact with God four years ago, standing at a blackjack table in the Taj in Atlantic City when he promised that if God let him double down on a hand of blackjack, he would take the money, walk away, and give up gambling. Well, God let him double down, he won five hundred bucks, and he’s pretty much stuck to his promise, with the exception of a little poker every now and then. So I think he’ll be okay. And if not, it’s God’s problem. God can strike him down right in the middle of the Luxor and maybe I can find a way to blame his freak death on an electrical malfunction that the casino is responsible for rather than a divine lightening bolt sent to smite down one who has welched on his marker. Ah, but more important than the fun that being in Vegas with a former compulsive gambler will generate (think of the journal entries, people! Well, Holden sold the plane tickets....), going to Vegas means I get to see Penn and Teller! Again! For something like the eighth time! And really, I’d go to a knife convention with a former compulsive slasher if it meant I’d get to see Penn and Teller, particularly Penn. As you all know by now. So we’re going to Vegas on Thursday. We're staying at the MGM Grand. I have a very cute new dress. (Actually I have many new clothes, because well, I am going to Vegas!) And I will need that cute dress because I will have my picture taken with Penn. And I’m sure we’ll get home without needing my sister to wire us money.

7 Deadly Sins and Other, Less Fatal Diversions Pride: Every once in a while I manage to pick a very cool article of clothing. Envy: Not a soul because I'm going to Vegas! Wrath: Let's hope Holden's deal with God only encompasses Atlantic City casinos; I'm not that keen on incurring his wrath while in Sin City. Sloth: No time for sloth! I'm going to Vegas! Avarice: Slot machines, money wheels, craps tables, blackjack tables.....Mmmmmm. Gluttony: Casino buffets....Mmmmmmm. Lust: Penn. Duh. I'm going to Vegas! Where he lives! Book: I'm leaving the Malleus Maleficarum at home. Too heavy to read on the plane. In it's place, I'm taking Anne Rice's The Witching Hour. Yes, all I read right now is stuff about witches. Tune: Elvis, "Viva Las Vegas": Bright light city gonna set my soul, Gonna set my soul on fire. Got a whole lot of money that's ready to burn, So get those stakes up higher. There's a thousand pretty women waitin' out there. And they're all livin' devil may care. And I'm just the devil with love to spare. Viva Las Vegas, Viva Las Vegas Task at Hand: Packing. For Vegas! Quest for Publication: Total Submissions: 51 Rejections: 26 Acceptances: 1 Withdrawals: 7