I'm co-planning a bachelorette party for one of my best friends.
The problem? Typical bachelorette parties make me want to throw up in my tea. Wearing a thong outside your jeans and kissing strangers is only fun when... Well... Never. However, since I'm a co-planner and not a dictator, I can't veto everything that comes my way. Some people seem to like getting their friends dressed up like a skanky clown and parading them about the town like a freak show. Why, that has fun written all over it!
I've decided that I will get obnoxiously drunk so that if someone whips out a garter, I can blame to booze when I try to pummel someone with it. Ever been choked by a garter? Don't cross my path tomorrow night.
I swear to God, if I ever get married and if ANYONE tries that shit on me, I will elope and never come back.
I'm sorry. I seem to have caught the wedding rage. I think five weddings in one summer is overdoing it, no? How is a gal supposed to plan a CD release party when she's too busy tracking down registries?
Dear (insert name here),
Thank you for inviting me to your wedding. I hope this silicone oven mitt brings you much joy over the years. It has a lifetime warranty, which is more than I can say for those ugly shot glasses I'm burying in your backyard.
Love always, Andrea
The good news in all of this is that I get to attend a cake testing this weekend. I think I can break out of my wheat-free experiment to stuff myself with wedding cake. Sign me up.