My future Sister-In-Law, Becky, had her bachelorette party this weekend at her parents cabin/house up north.
This is Becky with her real sister, Jen, whom, as her Maid of Honor, did a fabulous job at planning the festivities.
It was a Jimmy Buffet themed party (Becky LOVES Jimmy Buffet...but who doesn't), and I remember at one point looking at the group of girls around me and thinking, "You people...you people are my people". This was the kind of bachelorette party I tend to dig: Just a bunch of girls hanging out all weekend, no huge production, no Suck For a Buck. It was, instead, the perfect combination of chill and crazy. For instance, there are pictures that I will not post on this blog out of respect for the bride and her bridal party. But, let's just say that the title did not come without an exhibit of proof from the lady who spoke it (tho' it wasn't the bride...I can tell you that. And, it wasn't me.).
Wessel looks displeased here. I suspect she's thinking about the fact that Steph gets to share a bed with me for the weekend and she does not. I understand her disappointment. I would want to sleep with me, too.
Presents are fun. They're even more super fun when those presents happen to be anal beads. Because we all know that Becky is an innocent virgin who knows nothing in the ways of lovemakin', Katie and Jurek graciously offered a demonstration of the proper positioning and usage of the gifted anal beads. Note the purple color of the beads, and the way the black of the cord offsets the shading, offering a lovely portrait of anal seduction.
When Becky and Kris have kids, I will be the first to tell them that they are here against all odds. Just like how I told Dan that his real dad was the postman, and that we found Dan in our mailbox after the postman that decided he didn't want him anymore.
I have just informed Becky that my parents have the very same book. Let's just say that's not a look of disbelief on her face.
Some say it's important to pick the most gorgeous of your friends to be in your bridal party. Becky, apparently, places a higher value on what is on "the inside" more than what is on the outside.
That's Steph. At the moment when this picture was taken, she was deeply anticipating sleeping with me that night, and pondering what, exactly, she might be able to get away with. I, however, informed her that I was saving myself for my future husband due to the fact that my body is a temple and a gift to God, and that she could just forget about any and all molestation tactics she might have come up with. Then she asked me what the hell I was talking about, but I was already on my way to the cooler to get another beer and so I didn't have time to answer her. Jurek, though, once again demonstrates the unspoken with her powerful body language.
Later on in the night we moved the party from the deck to the basement to play games like "Never Have I Ever" and "Death Is Not An Option". Never Have I Ever "Snowballed", and I will totally do Val Kilmer over Tom Cruise in "Top Gun". Death doesn't have to be an option in that dilemma.
Then we took shots of Tequila Rose, toasting the bride and her selfless decision to take Kris off the market so that no one else would ever have to suffer.
Becky looks so hot here that I try to make out with her. Whatever...sisters-in-law make out all the time, just like how friends listen to "
Endless Love" in the dark...
The next morning we stuffed our faces with bagels and coffee and got ready to go tubing on the St. Croix river. I am such a breakfast girl - give me coffee, maybe a bagel, and a view of a northern lake, and it pretty much makes my weekend. So yeah. I was good from there. Nicki, however, looks like she hates breakfast and everything it has ever stood for. I still like her, though. Kinda.
We do not have pictures of the tubing excursion, as most of us elected not to take our cameras (and the one camera that we did take ended up in the river. Weird.). This is probably a good thing, though. After a lengthy questioning by moi, it was discovered that our portage guide was not, in fact, the hired stripper. It was also discovered that Wessel falls out of her tube a lot, even when the water is about knee height. We also tested our graceful ability to stand on top of our tubes, fall out of our tubes without losing our bikini tops, and get a sunburn on only one side of our bodies. Some of us who shall remain nameless also decided to go "Boobs All Out" while we happened to be passing another tubing party that included kids. Whatever...we were one with nature. Sometimes Mother Nature calls for boobs to pop out of bikini tops and bask in the glow of the afternoon sun while floating on tubes down the St. Croix river.
Also, it should be noted that we are safety girls. Thus, at the beginning of our tube ride, Becky announced who the First Responders in our group were, just in case something happened. I even believe someone quipped, "So if they drown, we're fucked." Yeah.
At the end of the (3 hour) tube ride, we arrived at the wooden staircase that led up from the river to the portage point. Some of the girls hauled our tubes up the stairs and then went back down the water to hang out, as we knew it would be a while until we were picked up. I retrieved my flip flops from the side of the tube they were tied to, slipped them on my feet, and proceeded to walk down the stairs to the water. As I did so, I slipped on one of the wet, slick steps and subsequently landed on my tailbone. Yeah. That fucking hurts. So everyone was like, "Oh my god, are you okay?!", and me being the way I am, I just kind of brushed it off, gingerly placed myself on the bottom step, and was like, "Yeah, I'm fine."
The next thing I knew, there were all these voices and movement, I felt like I was being suffocated, and I heard myself yell, "OKAY! STOP!". Apparently, not long after I had sat down on the bottom step after falling on my tailbone, I fainted and slipped into the water. Becky knows I'm somewhat of a fainter, so when she realized that I was lying at the bottom of the river and that I wasn't coming back up, she alerted the girls to action. I now have a huge bump and a few scrapes on the side of my head where it hit rock, a huge bruise on my right arm from where someone tried to pull me out of the water, a scraped and swollen knee and shoulder, and a huge-ass bruise on my tailbone. But I'm alive. So this girl ain't complainin'.
After getting back from the river (and taking pictures of my injuries like the one above for prosperity's sake) most of us took a much needed little nappy, then proceeded to continue with the making of our merriment.
Becky, however, was not feeling so great, due to a little thing called "dehydration".
We did end up with a run-in with the male gender. A boat of old foagies happened to be passing by the house, and after cat-calling us, a couple girls went down to the dock to talk to them. They assumed that because of this, they were welcome at our little party. They were not, and were told so in so many words. They seemed like they were okay, but as most of you know, I don't tend to enjoy spending a night entertaining old married men. For some reason, though, old married men think that this is all single girls in their 20's and 30's want to do. Again, weird.
After Becks started to feel a little bit better, we engaged in some more planned Bachelorette activities. A skit -
Some noteworthy presents bestowed upon Becky to make her feel her utmost desirable and beautiful (these nails were my gift. They're press-ons, and they're painted to look like little Easter eggs. Don't ever say that I don't have taste.) -
And one of those "How well do you know the bride?" games. As you can see, some of the questions were hard -
The weekend ended with more drinking, more merriment, a little dance party, and then finally breakfast and farewells the next morning.
Th-th-that's all, folks...
Listening To: This Photograph Is Proof (I Know You Know) by Taking Back Sunday
