O.k. well perhaps I used to be at one point in time. I will admit that there were many times that the kitchen or bathroom tile felt just absolutely heavenly to my then nauseous and room spinning self, from too many lemon drops or way back in the day zimas with jolly ranchers placed in the bottle. Oh. It still makes my stomach churn when I think of those. I think I need to go and find some nice cold tile for a few minutes...be back.
I really find it astonishing that I wasn't concerned in the slightest about the sanitary wrongness of these actions. There are moments I am so not proud of that I would look at my friend who was lying inches from me vowing the same things as I, to never ever drink that much again, and then thanking the nice cold floor for being so healing. The whole thing just ridiculous. Was Dave Matthews really that awesome that we needed to see him 23 billion times in the same place or was that just the haze? The jury is still out.
I will admit, many fun times. None of which my daughter will be having.
Now, there is just no way I would choose to partake in times like these on purpose.
Beyond all the unnecessariness of it, have you woken up with a hang over with children?
Let me just tell you, HERE is the beginning of the day and then end of the day is like in North Dakota and you have to get there while carrying three children on your back, walking, barefoot, with one of them banging Thors Hammer into your head. This is what a hangover feels like now. You cannot just sleep the day away flat out on your back, drool coming out the corner of your mouth. Responsibilities people!!!
So when it comes to Bachelorette Parties you can imagine that all things that a Bachelorette Party were when you are in your mid twenties, kind of becomes a little unnecessary when you get into your thirties. I know. I am fuddy duddy. But going to see male dancers is never as it was in the movie, Magic Mike. It just isn't, and that's why its the movies. POP!! And there, I burst your bubble. I readily admit if you told me that I was going to a party and Channing Tatum was going to be dancing and then, although not in the movie, Ryan Gosling was going to make a special appearance, I could be persuaded to change my mind. But this is not the case and it never will be. I live near the Jersey Shore. This should be enough said.
My baby, baby sister is getting married in just under two weeks. The man she is bringing into the family is probably the best thing around. He's a great cook and a great personal trainer, and you can't ask for more then that. Ok, ok, he does have some pretty awesome qualities as well. You should totally meet him. Ask him to get you in shape and also cook you some pasta. Really, if I knew he was cooking for me at the finish line of some triathlon he trained me for, I would totally do it. Now I'm hungry.
In the wedding party, there is a wide range of lady status' all from the same family. One is pregnant, one isn't 21 yet and certainly does not drink yet...in college...6 hours away from home...come on, one had 3 children to return to, care for, and over all function for, and two are probably age appropriate for an over the top bachelorette shin dig. So meeting in the middle was probably pretty necessary.
So my other baby sister, the preggo, took the reigns, and planned the party weekend out of her homebase in Delaware. We had some spa treating in her living room, because why go out when you can drink wine and eat teenie weenies at home while someone else is soaking your feet? Not only that, it was 50 million degrees outside. At one point my mom and aunt decided to take a walk and were back within 10 minutes; heat, wine drinking, and brisk walks are not a good combination, in case you were wondering, cause they apparently were.
So we lazed the afternoon away doing this and answering prompted questions surrounding bachelorette ideas...like worst date ever...thing you noticed first about your future fiance. She totally said his butt, and come on, he totally has to sell his product...who would work out with a trainer who doesn't have a good bum?
We then got all gussied up for a dinner out on the town. My sister had chosen a tapas themed restaurant that I would totally recommend you hit up on your next jaunt to Wilmington, Delaware called Orillias. As previously mentioned, I do not partake in any excess drinking on purpose. I am a little bit strange, in that if the taste of the alcohol is stronger then the taste of the rest of the stuff in the beverage then I am out. So here is where Sangria might come into play. O.k. maybe it did come into play and by the end of the dinner my cousin sitting next to me were totally picking the fruit out of our empty glasses to eat with our fingers. We are that classy, but fruit that has been soaking in that yummy beverage is soooo good after downing like 8 glasses...dude, some of that food was spicy!
After plate upon plate upon plate of food, and a conversation in the bathroom about liking subway tile, but not before a brief inspection of teeth by other resident fruit eater of her sister and my other cousin, we headed back to my sisters house for some desserts and go to Bachelorette Party games. By the way...if you are in need of a Penis Pinata for any event, please let me know, my sister ordered one that did not come in time for the party. You know for a Bris, a gender reveal party, something like that. This will go totally fast, get your bid in.
I totally do not remember falling asleep. I am however keenly aware of the headached and dry mouth I had the next morning all while my eye makeup was smeared down my face. Again, classy.
We had some yummy breakfast and a vat of coffee each, and they headed out for yoga. I skipped this part of the event to get home to my children...I totally had a big day ahead of me, being North Dakota is so very far away.
Oh and I am totally not getting paid for this product advertisement. However, after a night of drinking, some spanish food, and 64 ounces of strong coffee with cream you might feel a little rumble. Sticking with the classy theme, I recommend THIS product to have by your commode. No joke. Works fantastically. If you live with a man, it might just be a necessity. Just sayin.
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