Hello all!
I am SO incredibly behind with my blog, and I send my sincerest apologies. Turns out, you neglect a lot of things when planning a wedding. Now that I'm a MARRIED WOMAN, I can catch up!
I'm going to start my catching up with a post about my bachelorette party, which was in September. Of course, not all details can be revealed because that breaks the cardinal rule of a bachelor/bachelorette party! Let me start by saying that my maid of honor (and also hostess of the party) went WAY out of her way and I'm sure spent way too much money and I am forever grateful.
Elaine (my maid of honor and yes I changed her name.. just in case), asked me early on what I wanted to do for my last night out. Easy- I wanted to have a VIP section at Opera nightclub and get a hotel. That was it. I didn't need a limo or party bus, or anything more extravagant than that. Done. Elaine booked the section, and all was well. UNTIL, she got a call from one of the sales people at Opera that informed her that a private event was suddenly booked and the amount for the section would triple if we still wanted to go. Obviously, I didn't want her or anyone else to have to come out of pocket any more than they already were, so we opted for Prive nightclub instead. I sent Elaine my guest list and she took it from there. She included one instruction in her invitation, to wear black. This was determined before talking with me and I was actually kind of bummed at first because I have a closet full of black and now I would have to find something different. The idea was for me to stand out as the bachelorette, and I kind of loved that.
As the day neared for my party, I had a cream/sequinned dress that fit my role as "bride to be" perfectly. The group of girls invited were to meet at the hotel Elaine booked, a couple blocks from the club. Before I packed my overnight bag and left to get my makeup done and head to the hotel, Chazz had some concerns for the night. He wanted to know if I would be able to check in with him every so often. I scoffed, and told him that I wouldn't be allowed to talk to him and that I probably wouldn't even have my phone on me. He would have to wait until I got home the next day. Speaking to your fiance during your bachelorette party breaks the second cardinal rule! He would absolutely not be talking to me, but I gave him Elaine's number in case of emergency.
After I get my make up done at MAC, I rush to get dressed at a friend's apartment. As I'm getting dressed and doing my hair, I am receiving notifications that some of the girls aren't wearing all black. I was super annoyed because I went through so much trouble to find the perfect "non-black" dress so that I would "stand out", and it was going to be for nothing! Part of me wanted to throw a fit and use the "it's my party!" card to get my way. I then decided these girls were paying to celebrate me and I was glad they were coming, so I let the dress code go. Finally, I'm finished getting ready and now there's no time to eat, I'm running late for my own party (go figure)! I make it to the hotel, with 2 friends traveling with me. We get up to our room and it's decked out in bachelorette items with snacks and TONS of liquor. Heck. Yes. We start taking shots and mingling and I notice there are cliques starting to form. I do my best to get everyone to mesh together, but once I started drinking, I didn't really care about it. I was going to have fun regardless.
On our way out of the hotel, we stopped in the lobby to take a group photo. The front desk clerk sporting a teardrop tattoo on his face agreed to take our picture. As I was handing him my camera, I informed him I was the bride to be. He responded, "ok." What? OK?? Annoyed by his lack of excitement for me, I told him to congratulate me. He said, "I will." So I said, "tell me now." and he says, "I will." We go back and forth like this before I get furious, take my camera back, and demand that no one accept his services of taking our picture! The nerve!
We get to the club and are escorted to our VIP section. We had 3 white, plush sofas and honestly, I'm not really sure how many bottles. But there was a sparkler involved and that was fun. This is where the night turns blurry. I remember dancing barefoot on the sofa. A lot. I remember drinking. A lot. I remember Elaine and other friends taking shots out of my hand being mindful of my consumption. I remember meeting some of the cast from Big Rich Atlanta (thanks to the pictures on my phone). Then.... I remember sitting on the back of one of the sofas and being grabbed by friends to be rushed to the nearest bathroom. You can imagine what happened in there. One of the cliques had already left at that point and the girls were starting to disperse, so I decided to call it a night, although I don't remember doing so. I remember walking barefoot back to the hotel with Elaine (because who has time for shoes in the streets of Atlanta?) and meeting up with some of the girls back at the hotel. Apparently, two girls in my group were kicked out because one was vomiting in a nearby trashcan (this was probably when I was vomiting in the bathroom- classy).
I changed into my PJ's and decided that I wanted to go home. Seriously? Who tries to leave their own party? I grab my phone and call Chazz. I have no idea what that conversation consisted of, I just remember a friend grabbing my phone, telling Chazz I was going to sleep and hanging up. I guess at some point after that, I hid under the covers and proceeded to call him 9 times. NINE TIMES! I broke my own rule! The only reason I know this is because the next morning I received a text from my husband to be, apologizing for missing my 9 calls and making sure I was okay. Whoopsies.
I returned home in one piece feeling good about my night, not literally because I had a hangover from hell. My parade was almost rained on when there was a public clique vs. clique fight on our group photo that was posted to Facebook which went from bad to worse, quick. All of a sudden there were people joining in that didn't go out with us! Before you knew it, there were moms, family members, co-workers, you name it- joining in on it. Finally, after hours of bickering, the picture was deleted and everyone returned to their regularly scheduled programming. You can't win 'em all, I guess. But from what I remember, I had a blast. Although I should have submitted a complaint on teardrop front desk clerk. In fact, I still might.
