In approximately 3.5 hours, I am doing something absolutely ridiculous loading up 18 college-aged girls and taking them on a weekend retreat. 

Suddenly, my out-of-college-self feels quite old.  It is like I have somehow slipped from the “youth group participant” to the “youth group worker who has to carry around permission forms and remind everyone to use their buddy system.”  I’m even having my childhood BFF, whom I have deemed “French Fry” for bloggy-use, come to part of the retreat to help me keep things in control.  French Fry?  Are you out there?  We are old.

Ahem. 

I wish I could tell you where we’re going, but in the interest of, well, common bloggy sense, I won’t be able to disclose that information.  I will tell you that it is somewhere much colder than our current location… and somewhere a bit larger as well. 

I really wish I could tell you what we’re doing this weekend, but there’s an awful lot of girls going on this retreat that log onto this here bloggy and now that would just ruin the surprise.

So, what I’m trying to say is that this post is entirely pointless. 

Knowing this, I am bound and determined to rescue this poor excuse for a blog post, so INTERLINGS!  ALL THREE OF YOU WHO READ THIS BLOG!  I HAVE AN ANNOUCMENT:

All of the surprises I have planned for my girlies?  I’ll update the bloggy throughout the weekend to let you know how they go over.  Or, how they fail miserably.  Either way…  watch this space.

 I leave you with their excitement, best represented through a message I got from my adorable Andi this morning:

“I seriously have, like, ants in my pants right here in class… I want to be there NOW!”

Come to think of it, instead of watching this space for updates, perhaps all three of you should spend the time seeking the Lord for my sanity while I take my 18 pretty little ducklings on this trip. 

 I’m gonna need it.