So I'm getting married in less than two months. Shit be cray, but I could not be more excited to marry my handsome eggplant-parmesan-making dude. However, every bride needs an appropriate send-off, one last tequila shot infused weekend before becoming a Mrs. My friends did not disappoint in this respect.
I mean not to brag or anything, but I pretty much just had the most successful bachelorette party weekend EVER. I credit it entirely to my irreplaceable best friend (Meredith Savage Cabbage Fifer) who arranged the impeccable shebang, and then of course my group of gracious and fiercely fun gal pals willing to make the trip to Philly.
This was my first bachelorette party experience, so I had no idea what to expect. I had only one major request of my friends, "Please no genitalia in my face." They assured me they would take this into consideration as they shamelessly embarrassed me.
Now, again, I cannot take credit for the creativity and insane generosity of my beautiful friends, since I planned NOTHING. However, I can tell you what a bitchin' bachelorette party looks like. It looks like mine. So if you want to plan the ultimate farewell-to-single-life-party for a bride friend of yours, OR if you're a bride and need some tips to better embrace this shindig, then here you go:
1. Don't tell the bride shit about the weekend (and brides, don't ask). No matter how much the bride begs, how much she wants surprises ruined for her, DO NOT CAVE. She must enter the weekend fully hydrated and with undefined expectations. That is all. If she knows what awaits her, she will have too much time to prepare her face, and then all of the hysterical spontaneous pictures you want to take of her will be ruined. I swear that the nervous anticipation of my party ended up being the best part, and it made every element of the weekend that much more exciting. So don't tell your bride anything. Not the hotel plans, travel plans, dining plans, stripper plans - don't tell her shit.
2. Stock the hotel rooms. Because who doesn't like a self-made hotel bar? No one. Meredith stocked our rooms with outrageously thoughtful goodie bags full of mouthwash, tissues, chips (duh), and Alka Seltzer (double duh). She also made sure we had bottles upon bottles of booze and chasers, confetti, and "Wine Flu" cups. These decorative touches created a playful and personalized environment, and also this way, we could pull a Ke$ha and brush our teeth with a bottle of Jack if we so chose.
3. Eat your body weight in bread and cheese. This is a no brainer. How do you think my friends and I had so much energy all weekend? WE ATE LIKE NO ONE WAS WATCHING. We didn't give a fuck. I mean brunch should be a definite. It not only gives you the opportunity to indulge in the best jalapeno laced Bloody Mary of your life, but it also supplies you with infinite nosh options where the main dish ingredients are pretty much exclusively bread and cheese. In addition to brunch, you must absolutely partake in late night drunk munch sessions, ideally ones in which you can sample the food staple of your chosen party city. In Philly, naturally, we ate cheese steaks at 2AM, because that's what you do. Also you can put pickles on your cheese steaks, and who can conquer the world (much less a hangover) when pickles are involved? This bitch. I mean I could climb Mount Everest if pickles were part of the equation.
4. Embrace penis paraphernalia. It's just part of the weekend. It's inevitable. There will be an inflatable penis. There will be penis straws. In my case, a penis crown. Basically, just get comfortable with the idea of kitschy penis shit. I wasn't initially super relaxed about a bunch of plastic dicks bombarding my weekend, but it was actually hysterical. I also grew quite attached to the pink, inflatable penis who I logically named Stuart. Not gonna lie, he was pretty adorable. He knew how to get down.
5. Sightsee! Or shop. The weekend should absolutely be about partying, but let's get real, it's nice to have a little balance. The girls and I had a blast just touring around Philly, stumbling upon the city's tiny LOVE sign, its concrete park full of giant dominoes, and of course, its various shops. These activities that did not include crushing mixed drinks, made us feel more in touch with our mental faculties (if only for a few hours).
6. Go to a show. Or y'know, in my case, a male revue called Hunkomania. Yup. I said it. I saw it. I thought it was fuckin' great. I mean prior to my bachelorette party, I was completely underwhelmed by and anxious about male strippers. I did not want anything to do with them. However, my friends told me that not having some form of "adult entertainment" was a non-negotiable. It was going to happen. They said my face wouldn't get touched, they put plenty of Purell in my purse, and off to Hunkomania we went. Honestly, I haven't laughed so hard in a good, long while. The "hunks" are friendly, not busted, and have a hefty supply of compliments at the ready, plus a sense of humor. They also give you the chance to exchange your larger bills for singles, which is totally considerate. What gentlemen, those strippers. All in all, I had a number of vodka sodas, cheered with my friends, got up on the stage, and closed down the club. I will say this experience will never be repeated. Until my next friend gets married.
7. Get the fuck out. Every good party comes to an end, and in the case of a bachelorette weekend, it's as soon as you wake up Sunday morning. My NYC friends and I were originally on a 7:00pm train on Sunday, but we all woke up that morning, and were like hell-to-the-no-mo-fo. There was no way our hangovers or our pride would allow us to stay in Philly any longer. We immediately moved our train to the early afternoon, stuffed our faces with savory crepes, and were on our way back to the Big Apple. Sunglasses on, hearts full, eyes bloodshot. We had the best time, but it was time to get the fuck out.
To all future brides out there, I hope you have as much fun at your bachelorette party as I did at mine. Mine was proof that you could have one of the most fun weekends ever, while still maintaining your dignity. Finally, to all my girlfriends, when you get married, I'm coming for you.