For some reason I can't stop smiling. Even when my body is completely exhausted from an adventurous Las Vegas weekend, it's physically impossible for me to go 5-8 minutes without giggling to myself. Yeah, I'm creepy.

I wish I could tell you about everything that went down over the weekend - but that would be against the rules, sorry.

I can tell you that I woke up Saturday morning and immediately googled the prettiest cowboy I'd ever seen in real life. He had moves like Jagger and a heart-peircing smile.

Me: Whoa. *spotting the prettiest cowboy ever* across the room. Hannah: yes. go. there. now. Me: Oh, uhm, no. Probably not.

Hannah, walking across the room: Oh, hey, I like your boots. Me, whispering to Mary, who just walked up:  Lucchese

Mary: Are those Lucchese? Hannah, you owe me five dollars.

And, then the dance party began. For some reason the straight-outta-Compton dancing genes skipped a generation because I got the moves from please-stop-that-weird-thing-you're-doing. Thanks for that, mom.

Within hours of being on Las Vegas Boulevard, I knew this weekend was going to be fabulous.

How could it not with girls like Mary and Hannah, mimosas for breakfast, and a town that refuses to sleep?