Dear Lord baby Jesus, laying there in your ghost manger, just looking at your Baby Einstein developmental videos, learning bout shapes and colors...this is my prayer for my upcoming bachelorette weekend:
May I get drunk, but not too drunk. Sub-prayers:
- I would rather not turn into a crying mess of “I’m so sorry for [transgression from college years]! I love you sooooo much!”
- I would also like to not become physically ill.
- A hangover is OK, though. I have purchased pre-emptive Gatorade.
- I would like my memories intact. Because I intend to make some memories.
May I not be the drunkest one there. Or god forbid the only drunk one. For saddest is the Woo Girl who Woos alone.
May I make it through the daytime winery-visit portion without spilling any vino on the borrowed white dress I will be wearing.
May I pull off the little black dress I have planned for the evening bar-hopping portion, despite my fears that a little black dress is too boring for words no matter how rocking the underlying bod may be.
May my feet not hurt despite my unreasonably-tall shoes. And despite all the dancing I wish to do. And may some of that dancing happen on a bartop or at least a table?
May I fight off DrunkFace and manage to look cute in photographs even into the more slurred hours of the evening.
May the people I meet be skeevy in the blog-worthy stories way, not the “I need to file a police report” way.
May I run into another Bachelorette Party and have a bonding moment, but also clearly be having more fun than they are.
And most of all, may I have fun? And may all my bachelorette-ettes also have fun? Let it be a great party.
Oh, and one more thing: May I be spared from penis-shaped novelty items, generally.
{stolen from the broke-ass bride, who is obviously more clever than me}
xxoxo,
j
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