Bachelorette Parties, Sparkly Dresses and Davy Crockett


Last night was my good friend Chelsea’s bachelorette party. Her and her soon-to-be hubby Jake are one of my all-time favorite couples, and I couldn’t be more excited for them both. They deserve all of the happiness in the world. Oh, and one more amazingly crazy night before the big day.

In light of this night, Chelsea’s wedding and my anniversary and upcoming vacations, I decided last month to start dieting a bit. I looked good before, but I thought it was about time to look my best and to tone up a bit. I’ve lost over 10 pounds now, and this of course meant I had to find a tight,sexy party dress. I even broke my budget by spending TWENTY-ONE dollars (at least 12 dollars over budget!) on my party dress. I split the total up with card and cash to convince myself I was spending less. This is how cheap I am. I must say, it was very worth it.  I’m proud to say that I’m looking and feeling like I want to, and I needed a sparkly dress to show it!

Highlights: Penis shaped straws. They never get old.  Getting appointed the “Tease” sticker on my drinking cup.  A fun group of girls. On-stage dancing. Playing with the d.j. equipment. Seeing and hugging a good friend who I haven’t seen in YEARS. Feeling ecstatic that she moved back to Texas from California. Watching Chelsea glowing and happy and stuff. Dancing with my ladies and this Italian dude until my girl friends pointed to my ring finger and forced me to stop. (My girls are always endearingly protective. Ha. In my defense, Robby doesn’t mind me dancing with dudes. So there! )  This particular dude should have been in a soap opera, as he said he wanted to ‘take me away’ and his parting words were a whispered, “You’re pretty.” (Gah. Does this shit seriously work with some girls? Though I will admit I jokingly crowned him my ‘Italian lover’ for the rest of the night.) Conversations with a French dude about politics at three in the morning. (He thought I was smart because I knew about Socialism and Davy Crockett quotes.) Getting separated from the group with two of my best friends, and giggling a lot in the process. Free drinks. Walking back to the girl’s hotel room to be happily surprised and giddy to see my husband in the room. He had gone to Jake’s bachelor party and they had ended up back with the girls instead of at the planned strip club. Don’t worry, he got lots of cuddles and kisses from me instead of seeing lots of boobies. That about evens out, right?

More pictures:

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