That's right kids. I'm in my least favorite place, checking work email on a Saturday night and watch local Nevada news (which is pretty much just as bad as local news everyplace else).

Not bad so far though. My room is actually a huge suite (the perks of sharing an office with the events planner). Flight was eventless, MK (my boss) is not losing her poop yet (which is helping me stay calm), weather's nice here, and MK and I are talking about getting massages at the spa tomorrow afternoon. My muscles are extremely sore, so that sounds like a love-er-ly idea. And we went out for margaritas and Mexican food tonight, and bonded a little.

We have an extremely nerve-racking couple of days ahead of us. I'm trying to just put one foot in front of the other at this point and hope all our meticulous planning of the past four months pays off.

The hotel is definitely the nicest I've ever stayed in in Vegas. I've traveled here a lot for business, but always have ended up staying in the older hotels, which are stale and smoky and always feel like there's a film on everything.

Vegas is still somewhat depressing to me. Almost everybody I see fits into one of four categories.

1) Dazed looking families who thought this would be a spectacular place to bring the kids.

2) Redneck men with the sleeves cut off their T-shirts, and their wives stuffed into too-tight leggings, probably traveling one of the few times in his life.

3) 19-year-old girls with fake IDs, wearing skimpy shirts laced together precariously and really high heels, sipping drinks and looking determined as they light cigarettes and head out on the prowl.

4) 25-year-old guys with lots of product in their hair, wearing jackets and slacks, heading off to find high-priced hookers.

It's just not my kind of town.