What Happens In Vegas...Gets Blogged About

Girls Weekend in Vegas - wahoo! Eight of us headed to Vegas this weekend for 32 hours of debauchery. We rented a cabana and realized we are now pool snobs and can never go back without one. We all highly recommend it. We left at home seven husbands, one boyfriend, ten kids, three dogs and seven cats (give or take.)

This is the flight that Sarah and I almost boarded -- note, it is going to Seattle -- because one of us was hungover and the other one is bad with directions. Thank goodness we noticed and jumped into the Vegas line, I don't think Seattle would have been as fun. Unless of course, you can drink legally on the street in Seattle? If so, bring it on.

We start off the weekend (and by weekend I mean 32 hours) with some kind of pink concoction - we asked for pink lemonade and citron but we ended up with pink lemonade and some sort of pink vodka that had caffeine and guarana in it? I think it was called a Pink Flamingo but it should have been called Pink Crap as it was not very good. Note the "bowl" that we ordered, trying to relive the Sharkeez days. Also note that I did NOT leave with a Pike - thus not reliving the Sharkeez days.

Breanna (or Six as she prefers to be called) demonstrates how she got her nickname. Yes, we are a clever bunch. And yes, she was using 6 spf in 115 degree heat.

We hit up Planet Hollywood for dinner (the former Aladdin casino) and had a great time (if you don't count Jenn getting stabbed with a fork and Jaime having to demand carrots.)

So Jaime has all the connections and once again, she got us into the "in" club of the moment. That's right, VIP line, we got to cruise past all the next to naked 20 year old chics that were dressed much more club-appropriately than we were. Apparently 30s-sexy does not translate well in Vegas. Oh well. We happened to be following in a real VIP who was being filmed the whole time for some sort of reality show. Who?? Joe Jackson, Michael's father. I know, not too exciting but I still decided it was blog-worthy and I made it a mission to get a picture of him.

After several futile attempts where I try and take the pic over my shoulder (Joe was behind me) I assign Lia the task of getting the shot. Sadly, Joe inadvertently ducked behind me here, so all you see is my giant, glowing face. Nice Heather. (That is Joe's bodyguard or handler or something though.)

Success! Not a good picture but you get the gist.

And we be clubbin'

And the weekend ended well, with no one sunburnt, no one hungover and no one having flashed an entire restaurant her I'll Flip For You undies.