Piece of Meat

Tomorrow or I guess today, I am leaving for Sweden.  I decided yesterday to go to a Young Single Adult Camp.  I hear it is a meat market.  Um.  I love me a good piece of meat.  Oh Texas Road House - I miss you.  I love you.  Okay so it's not really the meat that is my motivation.  It is the fact that this camp is going to be held on the beach.  Yes, the beach...in Sweden. 

I bought my plane tickets while talking to my Swedish Friend Rebekah.  It was all in Swedish (the website, not the conversation).  She translated.  I laughed nervously, crossed my fingers and typed in my credit card info.  I stop in Zurich (I think but it is speeledd differently so I'm not really sure).  Didn't Jason Born stop there.  I love him almost as much as I love meat.  Okay well if he didn't stop there, I hear there are a lot of banks.  Why in all the movies does the bad guy send his money through a secret Swiss account?  Okay, if not a bank, aren't they famous for their bags or watches or something?

Then I have to take another flight and two buses to get there.  Did I mention that the websites were also in Swedish except this time, I didn't have my Swedish friend on the phone.  Google Translate, my life is in your hands.  I just might end up in Russia.  At least it is summer time. .. Is it ever summer time in Russia? 

I'll be gone for a week.  I plan to come back married. 

Oh, and if you would like to check out the site of this shin-dig, here is the website.  Might be good that someone knows the address and phone number of where I should end up...should I not actually end up there...but would that make this information worthless? 

I'm late, It's going to bed.  (Yes, this is what happens to my sentence structure past midnight)