Bachelorette Parties Hate Me

Every time I have gone to bachelorette parties, something unfortunate has happened to me. I am beginning to think it is punishment for being such a grouch about marriage, relationships, love, and other such crap. Every time there is a bachelorette party, the pending marriage starts out by kicking this fun-loving girl in the pants...every time...

Last year after 28 hours of globe trekking, I got home in time for my sister Cara to have her wild bachelorette party. "Wild" plans had been made. We were scheduled to go to get a pedicure, eat at Olive Garden, and then deal with the wildness that Amy and Bob concocted for the night. Now, for those of you who know me, this sounds daunting. It is far more dreadful after what seemed like years of misadventures in traveling (missed international flights, having to deal with rude Baltimore airport security, missed flights, multiple rescheduling of flights, quick "nap" before my 4 am departure to the Baltimore Airport, but really no sleep).

Jillian, Amy, Cara, and I packed into Cara's Geo and headed off to Westfield to meet Stephanie. We reached Westfield to find out that Steph wasn't going to be able to make it. No big deal; we can figure out how to handle a girly party without the most feminine of the Main girls right? Stephanie had made the plans for the nail salon, but I should have been able to steer us in the right direction. Everyone knows I pride myself on my impeccable sense of direction. I love driving. I love directions. However, we somehow avoided the interstate entrance in Westfield; we spent half of an hour backtracking through Fredonia before we got on the road to this nail salon place in Erie. We didn't know the name of the place, nor did we have a phone number, and we were going to be severely late. Panic.

Amy called mom. Amy called many people trying to find out where we were supposed to go. Amy called every nail salon in Erie. Amy called places she thought might be next to a nail salon. Ridiculouness ensued.

We found the place eventually. We were late, but we were there. This is when all of the problems really began. Before we had left, my eyes felt like they were on fire. I would find out later that it was due to no sleeping, but at this point, I thought my eyes were infected and stupid. I was mad at them. I put on my best "deal with it" face and got ready to get a pedicure.

Now I had never had a pedicure before, and I was honestly super nervous about the whole ordeal. I became slightly more anxious once I sat in the chair. Now most ladies will tell you that having a pedicure is a blissful experience, one they look forward to having again soon. They will also tell you that sitting in the massaging chair is ultimately the most relaxing thing since being in the womb. I found the whole experience very.... what's the word? Oh yeah, invasive. Let's just say that the chair has gotten to know me in ways, hopefully no one ever will. "Yikes" was all I could say when we all walked out of there. We were all horrified.

I nearly passed out at Olive Garden. When we left, I crawled into someone's backseat; I honestly do not remember whose. When I got back to my house, I told Amy I would take a nap and to have Cara wake me when she got home. Needless to say, I wasn't aware of anything until 10 in the morning. Cara had woken me up, and I assured her that I would be down in 5 minutes. I ultimately and unintentionally lied. Wow what a trooper I say. Kick in the pants number 1.

So, this weekend was Amy's bachelorette party. I have stressed out about planning it for a couple of months now, and had everything lined up to be awesomely fun. Cue facial pain. Friday at work I was miserable. Miserable. I called the doctors who assured me that it must be allergies, which I have not been diagnosed with as of yet. I buy Benadryl and Ibuprofen and settle in for a night of misery. Shooting pain, etc. No sleep once again.

Saturday morning-Amy arrives. I am still doing last minute cleaning fury time, and very politely refuse to go to the emergency room despite crippling pain until the house is slightly less than spotless. Amy and Cara volunteered to be my personal maids so that I would agree to go. After spending hours waiting for pain meds and an answer, I realized I knew just as much as the Physician's assistant about my malady. It is probably a sinus infection or an infected tooth, and to make a super long story short...I need meds. I get them, come home, and meet up with some of the ladies for the night. We chat and laugh, and I try to grin despite the nastiness I am feeling. We head out for the night to Olives in Mayville. The only way for me to keep down the painful nastiness is by drinking a ton of water and swishing it in my mouth. I couldn't eat because it hurt, but I drank about 100 gallons of water while we were there. The whole time I was trying to enjoy myself as much as I physically could.

Time to check out, and I trudged my way to the Giannonis' vehicle. We got halfway home when I said, "Lora, I think you might need to pull over." She pulled over just in time for me to regurgitate all 100 gallons of water that have been holding me together for the night. It was bad. Bad, Bad. However, despite the puking and the pain, I had a great time. I actually stayed awake for this one, laughing and telling stories with some genuinely fun women.

Oh love...you get me every time. That was kick in the pants number 2. So, ladies, who's next? What new wedding is going to inflict me with a bachelorette party? What new malady can I have next time? Will I come down with a terrible case of the gout? Could I possibly catch me some leprosy? Maybe I should just embrace the love....Parkhurst let me know when I should get that speech ready...