Four

Get the Solo Cups out. We're drinkin' in the parking lot in four days.

Okay, so, sometimes, I imagine the cool celebrity chicks I'd like to hang out with. Stacy London of TLC's What Not to Wear is one of them. Any woman who says that a quick fashion fix is "a great pair of high heels, a good shade of lipstick and a stiff drink" is a woman that I want to friend on MySpace. I'd like to hang out with Gwen Stefani because she would encourage me to try funky clothes and she'd let me hold her baby and maybe Gavin Rossdale would walk by without a shirt. But my favorite celebrity BFF? Kelly Clarkson.

Imagine it. She's a normal sized human woman, so she probably likes to drink. In my mind, Alicia, Kristen and I show up at Great Woods on Sunday really early and start drinking Gansett by the Tall Boy. Then the tour bus comes up, and Kelly's like, "Hey, y'all!" And we're like, "Hey, Kelly, we brought some tequila."

Flash forward two hours, and we're draped over Alicia's car, slurring our words and talking about boys.

"And I said, like, shut UP, Guarini, nobody ASKED YOU what you thought of this choreography in From Justin to Kelly. Like, just shutdafuckup and sing."

"Duuuude, Justin suuuucks."

"Hah. Yeah. And he cries during sex. OH MY GOD. DON'T TELL ANYBODY!"

"Kelly, you totally picked the wrong Justin."

"Y'all are SO RIGHT."

"JT is the Justin with a Grammy."

"DAMN! SNAP! Pour me another shot, please. My manager's gonna come for me like any second now. God, I hate work. But I love y'all."

This is going to be the best day OF MY LIFE. I can just tell.