You'll have to excuse me, but this weekend was outrageous. On Saturday, my mom and my aunt threw me a surprise bridal shower. I guess technically those things are all supposed to be surprises, but this one was REALLY a surprise because I forgot all about the whole bridal shower thing. Because, you know, I'm really good at being a bride-to-be.
I wanted to post all about this yesterday but I was still completely exhausted and I hadn't totally sobered up yet. And I don't know how most bridal parties work, but mine was a shit show. And when I walked in to what I thought was my cousin's graduation party and all of my college best friends who live across the country jumped out and yelled SURPRISE! I was all "I don't understand and I'm a little scared." And then I started crying. True story. And then my friends were all "it's your bridal shower, moron!" And handed me a beer and that's pretty much the last thing I remember. But I'm pretty sure there were some South Philadelphia firemen and also definitely a congo line and my underwear involved. And I'm talking about real firemen who put out fires, not firemen who get paid to take their clothes off. No matter how hard you try.
Are Billy and I not the most adorable babies you have ever seen IN YOUR LIFE? Be honest with yourself. I mean, just check out those wings. Also, just so we're all clear, I was roofied before they put that hat on my head, so at that point I also would have agreed to take off all my clothes and dance the YMCA on South Street. Instead, we all guzzled bottles of wine on the deck and sang Aretha Franklin to everyone passing by on the street. That's where the firemen came in. On a related note, it's amazing how many men are willing to take off their shirts when you serenade them with Aretha Franklin.
And after the neighbors complained and I might or might not have bitten my cousin in the face, we went dancing. Which might explain why I woke up the next morning covered in beaded necklaces. This is still undetermined. And after that bar we went to another bar and did you know you can get a shot of whiskey and a PBR for only $3 in Philadelphia? Because that most likely explains why I bit my Man of Honor on the neck and came home with a number of bar glasses in my purse. Also, undetermined.
P.S. I really don't know what was up with all the biting. I guess that's an excited thing for me. Which again only confirms my similarities to a semi-aggresive laboratory monkey. But I swear these were loves bites, whereas I assume a bite from an actual semi-aggressive laboratory monkey would be a tad less pleasant.
P.P.S. Being as my engagement party was a raging kegger that ended with the majority of my friends being kicked out of a bar, and my bridal shower was a deck dancing wine party that ended with the majority of my friends being kicked out of a bar, I can only imagine what my bachelorette party is going to be like.
P.P.P.S. You can't get kicked out of a wedding, right?