How NOT to be a bridesmaid

You know, I like to share advice here to enrich my readers’ lives. Just my own personal little service. A gift from me to you. I’m just nice like that. So, in the spirit of giving, I would like to tell you how not to be a bridesmaid.

First of all, you should not be laid back. This will apparently piss off at least one of the bridesmaids. I will explain in more detail later.

You should definitely not drink red wine all night and forgo the simple rules of hydration such as…. you know…. to hydrate. Water is not your enemy. You should probably also not start bumming cigarettes off of the mother of the bride in your drunken stupor. Because she will give them to you, and you will smoke them. You should also not take the closing of the bar as a reason to speed up drinking. You should however remember if your father is attending the same function, so as to avoid doing anything stupid in front of him in your fancy dress.

As a brief note to the staff at wedding type establishments, you should probably not hand sparklers to a crowd of drunken people. Won’t always go badly…. but it could so very easily.

You should not tell a couple of drunken male friends that you had a nice conversation with a guy. Because they will inevitably decide you should bang him and harass you all night.

You should not ever go swimming in the wee hours of the morning when none of you have bathing suits. This may result in you getting into a pool in your pajama top and someone else’s slip which you will then forget to return.

Apparently you should not begin a deep discussion with that bridesmaid you pissed off at the very beginning of this list. This will result in her telling you how abrasive you are and that you hurt her feelings. At that point you definitely should not apologize to her, no matter how much you would like to smooth over your dear friends wedding day.

At this point a husband of the pissed bridesmaid would like you to know that you should not fall into the fountain in front of your guest house. Because everyone will laugh and no one will believe it was on purpose. Also, you will smell like a sewer afterwards. Your wife will force you to shower before you leave for home in boxers and a button down shirt. She will also get pulled over on the drive home and that just won’t look good. (However, you should feel free to snicker if such a thing does occur. Because that is seriously funny.)

You should not use the bathroom in your guest house to wash your face, pee, or vomit. Because you will see freaky little bugs in there no matter which you are doing. Sometimes on the floor, sometimes in the washcloth, and in unrelated news sometimes dead in your bed.

The next morning you should not go to breakfast if you are not feeling 100%. Because you will get to the top notch quaint little restaurant on the property first thing in the morning and promptly start to feel not so good. You will then locate the teeny tiny completely unsoundproofed powder room which has just been impeccably cleaned. And you will defile it with the aforementioned red wine and lack of hydration.

You should then not imagine you are fine and get in the car with the bride’s parents to drive back home. Especially if the drive is over an hour long. Here is why. About five minutes before you get there, your stomach will get very angry. To the point where you have to let the parents know. They will speed up in an effort to avoid disaster, but it probably won’t work. Eventually your urgent need to empty your stomach will overcome all decency. Your friend’s parents will pull over in font of a stranger’s driveway. And, in a moment of complete fabulosity, you will hop out of the car and be sick. On a stranger’s driveway. In front of the bride’s parents.

I think we can all agree that it definitely a comprehensive guide on how not to be a bridesmaid. Hypothetically speaking, of course.

La Vida Vegas – Part Three

Let me give you some highlights from the remainder of Vegas.

• I put $20 into a slot machine and won $345. I cashed out quickly and held onto it for dear life. Love Vegas I do, but a gambler I am not.
• QTMama gave me some advice on why I seem not to be attracting men in bars. I took her advice and promptly got molested by a short Hawaiian dude. Short dude asked me in the middle of a loud crowded bar, “Are you a sexual person?” I did not answer. A few minutes later, QTMama was called in to rescue me. This is what I get for taking advice.
• Even after the debacle of drunkenness that was Thursday night/Friday morning, I was oddly not slowed down in my drinking at all. Not once on this entire trip did I get a hangover. And after that night I did not throw up again. I believe my liver is actually angry now because I haven’t had a single drink since I got back. I should look into solving that.
• Folks, there was a whole lot more booze. QTMama and I would go out at night and not get home until it was light again the next morning. Vegas will forever be partying all night and endless alcohol in my mind. And I fully intend to prove that if/when I ever go back.

And here’s the last thing. On Sunday, QTMama and I got ready to go back home. We packed and chatted and laughed and generally tried to ignore the fact that we were preparing to leave. I feel safe speaking for her for just a moment to say that we both had an absolutely amazing time. And not just because of Vegas baby! And not just because of the booze. We both made a fast and strong friendship that weekend. I am not ashamed to say I got a little teary as we said our goodbyes.

So when do we go back???

La Vida Vegas – Part Two

After blackjack we were all feeling a bit friendly so we tottered through the casino laughing, drinking and kissing some more. I believe at one point there was video poker and the Irishman won. Then there was roulette. If memory serves again the Irishman won. We visited the poker wall of fame at one point. And all the while we were drinking, drinking, and ummmmmm….. drinking.

At some point I started to become aware of a problem. I’m not sure if it was the quantity of booze or the fact that we kept switching back and forth between types, but as the morning wore on I started to feel a little rough around the edges. After we all advised some girl at the roulette table not to get married (she was more impressed with her ring than she was with her man, in our defense), we stumbled outside into the sunshine and made our way back to our hotel.

Once there it was clearly a good idea to sit down at the bar. At that point I was aware of something very wrong and I had no idea what to do. The Set Up was starting to get a little worried for me so I was trying to pull it together. But he knew something was up when I ordered water at the bar. He started to ask me if I just wanted to go back up to the room, and got even more concerned when I didn’t have a clear answer. Everything was starting to get a wee bit fuzzy. And I was becoming increasingly aware that I was going to be sick.

So I had a choice. Should I go up to the nice clean room and be sick within earshot of him, or should I stumble to the public restroom and try to delicately vomit there? Clearly the latter was the better choice so I made a quick excuse and ran for it. Shortly afterwards QTMama came in. Apparently everyone noticed my weirdness despite my best efforts and she was the official liaison in charge of making sure I wasn’t suddenly unhappy. Reluctantly I explained the problem. At this point we were all kind of wasted, but QTMama was a champ. She offered to hold my hair or wait for me. All of which I refused. She waited anyway and got an audio tour of my tummy as I emptied it back out. Ever determined to appear normal I washed up, rinsed out, grabbed some gum, and headed back out. Our little secret. Well, until now.

After that I don’t remember a whole lot. I know we went to breakfast. I think QTMama may have actually taken her beer right into the restaurant, but can’t be clear. Somehow we all made our way upstairs.

Unfortunately, I’m not sure what happened after this. The Set Up and I were sharing a room and a bed and there was of course all the kissing. But there was also all the booze and it was roughly 8 AM on next to no sleep as well at this point. I’d love to tell you some lurid tale of what happened next, but the truth is it’s all a bit fuzzy. We may have done something, but we may not have. There’s really no way to be sure.

And what’s worse, I don’t know if he knows for sure or not either. After that night it all got a little awkward. The Set Up managed to cancel on other planned activities that weekend and I didn’t see him again until the night before we left. Based on the sheer quantity of booze consumed, I’m guessing he’s not entirely sure what went down either and so there is only awkward left. Because what could be less smooth than asking someone “Do you know if we…..”? Yeah. Not going there. Shame though because he was a sweet guy. But let’s get real folks… he lives in Las Vegas and I most definitely do not. So the loss here is minimal. So yeah, I just let that one go. Seemed prudent at the time. Although I think QTMama may very well still be laughing at me!

Anyway, more adventures were definitely had so I will finish this off later. Just know that the next morning? I totally didn’t have a hangover. I’m just a champ like that.

La Vida Vegas

When Wednesday finally came around, QTMama and I were going nuts. We texted all morning. We were positively giddy. So imagine how I felt when my flight was delayed. Then she started texting me to say how great her vacation was starting off and I got a little bummed. I promptly felt guilty because her flight got delayed too and both of us ended up getting to Vegas fabulously late. But we got there!

We promptly headed off to meet up with her Irishman and then out for late night/early morning booze. Yep, we started off in true Vegas style and we just never looked back.

I think Thursday was my favorite day. After not nearly enough sleep we grabbed a quick breakfast and met up with The Set Up. Seemed well enough, so we headed off for a day of fun in the sun at the hotel pool. (Because really, what better way to judge a set up then to immediately throw on bathing suits and expose all our worst figure flaws? Right.) Whatever, there was lots of fun and lots of beer. I was a wee bit tipsy as we headed up to the rooms to get ready.

Now, a quick word about the room. The Set Up was staying at the hotel that night and we had arranged to have two beds in my room so he could crash out on one. Alas, this did not go so well as the room contained only one giant king bed. After a minimum of cursing, we decided we could just lump it and never look back. After all, this is Vegas baby!

Anyway, a few shower negotiations later and we were ready to head out the door. Please note, there was no nap involved. So QTMama and I were now heading out for a night in Vegas after 3 hours of sleep and all day at a pool. I am convinced at this point that my blood had turned to pure booze and that’s the only reason I was still moving.

We hit the strip and got our groove on. Or whatever. There was dancing and booze, ok? And it was good. But after about 3 AM we decided it was time for a little old style Vegas and we headed over to Fremont St. to experience true Vegas style. To be honest, I’m not sure where we started off. I just remember lots of booze. And suddenly The Set Up came up with a grand idea. I had expressed an innate fear of table games. So 4 AM or so seemed a grand time to break me in, and we went in search of a dollar BlackJack table. Everyone assured me it would be totally non-threatening but I had my doubts.

In the end we managed to find a $5 BlackJack table and that was good enough for me. The four of use sat down and had the whole table to ourselves. As we started playing, the Irishman declared that getting blackjack equals kisses and proceeded to plant a huge one on QTMama as she won that round. The Set Up and I kind of looked around absently pretending not to notice. That is, right up until the Irishman leaned over and asked me… “If The Set Up gets blackjack, does he get kisses too?” There was a moment of silence and The Set Up looked at me expectantly. You see that clearly there was only one answer to this question. “Ummmm…. sure!” Of course, next hand I got blackjack. The dealer was highly amused at this point, as were QTMama and the Irishman. I think The Set Up had been waiting for some kind of opening all night and this was clearly it. While everyone watched he planted one on me. I got all flustered and red and probably giggled stupidly while everyone laughed at me.

Now, I think that man knew how to rig a table. Or something. Because after that he started cleaning up and much blackjack was had. And as we had just established, blackjack equals kisses so there were a whole lot of those too. The dealer spent a great deal of time laughing at us. In fact she wasn’t sure if we were playing for chips or kisses anymore as kisses seemed to get more cheers. And folks, there were a lot of kisses.

Alas, blackjack could not last forever. Eventually, all kisses aside, we all went belly up. So we collected our booze and headed off for the next adventure. Which I will tell you about in my next entry.

The Set Up

So we have covered that QTMama and I are heading off to Vegas (in TWO DAYS!!!). There will be booze, a fabulous hotel, booze, bars, booze, music, and maybe… ummmm…. booze. But I believe we failed to mention the other feature of this trip.

Now before I tell you this, you must understand that QTMama and I are planning on having a blast. In fact, Vegas may implode due to our utter fabulosity all concentrated in one tiny place. The main focus of us going together is to join forces to conquer the universe. Seriously. Oh yeah, and so she can see her IrishMan. Whatever.

But the thing we haven’t been telling you is that there’s also a set up. Oh yes, the infamous set up. The IrishMan has a single friend. QTMama is bringing a single friend. Hmmmm…. whatever might happen? A set up, that’s what.

Single people are usually firmly divided on the topic of set ups. In one camp, you have the haters. They don’t want you trying to choose a mate for them. They are not interested in your hand outs. They are frequently tricked into the set up because they are ever resistant. In the other camp, there are the set up friendly. These folks have not had much luck picking people for themselves and are grateful to hand the reigns over to someone else for a while. For the record, I fall into the friendly camp.

The theory here is simple. I have clearly done a horrible job picking men for myself. I have actually married two men who I promptly divorced. And most others I can’t even be bothered to keep around for longer than an hour or so, if that. And if, by some small miracle, I manage to keep them around? There is no worry that I will run away and marry another as all of the ones who are allowed to stay are also allergic to any level of committment. That’s a fantastically horrible track record. Add to that the fact that I am now farming the internet for men because I am entirely incapable of meeting one in day to day interactions. So what’s to lose by letting someone else pick for a while? I mean seriously, it can’t be any worse.

Back to Vegas. Booze booze booze… and The Set Up. Doesn’t that just sound like a blog post waiting to happen?

Leavin’ (for) Las Vegas

So gentle readers, riddle me this: What could possibly be more dangerous than a One Date Wonder let loose in Sin City? I mean, that seems kind of like a recipe for insanity, right? Picture it… men, booze, sweltering heat, gambling….. right. That’s what I’m saying. And yet, I assure you, there is something more dangerous yet.

Pairing that One Date Wonder up with a rockin’ QTMama and letting them both run free through the streets!

That’s right, QTMama and I are packing it up and going to Vegas in just over two weeks. Kids and cats will remain at home and we will be let loose in the insane heat of Las Vegas. That town may never be the same.

Friday night’s alright for fighting!

So, Friday night I met Catherinette and Foxy out at a restaurant named for a number by a certain park in the city. (I’m being coy for the search engines folks.) Like the total rockstar I am, I had fallen asleep on the couch earlier in the evening and Catherinette became concerned upon learning this news and ordered me to get dressed and exit the apartment immediately. My version of immediately is a little slow, so I was really late. But I got there. And I even parked my own car. Take that!

Anyway, Foxy turned into a pumpkin at an early hour but Catherinette and I partied on like good little soldiers. After much discussion we headed to another part of town to a bar neither one of us usually frequents. And after Friday night, likely we never will again.

First of all, it was loud. But we totally knew that was coming, so we were mellow about the situation. We got inside, shoved our way past two couples who were perhaps about to have a very intimate moment in the middle of the bar, and made our way upstairs. We finally shoved into a room that was slightly less crowded and made our way over to the bar. Beers in hand we were starting to feel a bit better about the situation and had gotten to the serious business of mocking the other patrons. There were bad fashion choices and even worse dancing skills. In one notable case, we found ourselves unable to look away. The horrible moves were mesmerizing. And hilarious.

All was well and good until the bar fights started. First there was beer all over the floor, then there was a pile of men duking it out. The bad dancer even stopped dancing so he could take in the scene. The staff broke it up, we shrugged a little, and went back to our beers. That’s when the second fight went down. More men on the floor… this time dangerously close to where we stood. And the bad dancer started cheering this time. The music was turned off, the lights came on, and security was paged. We downed the remainder of our beers and got out of dodge with a resolution never to return. Which was renewed when we scurried past the police on the way out.

Yes folks, that’s right. It is nothing but KLASSY when we go out together. You know you want in on this action.

Boozin’ Bloggers Night Out

So I teased earlier with a little recap of my girl date with the fabulous Cathrinette Singleton. I even posted a picture. I want you to understand though, what happened to that picture was necessary. We were simply that hot. It was barely manageable. I did it for your protection, honestly. Seriously, the other people at the bar hardly knew what to do. The bartenders were drawn to us. It was clearly quite a situation. Just know I tried to spare you all from the danger.

We did start at the Chesapeake Wine Company, but that was just a wine tasting warm up. The main dish was at three… Okay, the main cocktails and the main dish. Mainly the three… cocktail and one of the hottest men I’ve ever encountered, Cool Hand Luke (CHL). Mmmmm…. hot man and fabulous drinks. I wasn’t sure which one I liked more. Okay, that is a wee exaggeration. Definitely the man.

I also need to tell you that I met the fatastic Lola as well. She fit right in with our hotness and we made quite the trio sitting at the bar. And thankfully, unlike some of the other patrons, we were not dressed like scary triplets. Because seriously, who does that???

I would also like to point out that none of us ordered a Natty Boh. That’s right, apparently that needs to be said. As we were sitting there chatting up Cool Hand Luke, we saw what I can only describe as drunken little teenyboppers at the end of the bar. The girls were grabbing at each other and pretending to offer girl-on-girl action to get the bartender’s attention. (Which totally didn’t work by the way!) When he finally did go over and tell them all about the fabulous specialty martinis they had that evening, the bleach blonde of the bunch struck her cutest pose (which totally wasn’t) and ordered a Natty freakin’ Boh. Seriously. Luckily they left soon after.

After that my evening was a blur of incredible cocktails, 5 million trips to the bathroom (Was Catherinette feeding me all that water to keep me from getting a hangover or to keep me away from the bartenders???), and tons of laughter. And with some quick hugs goodbye, we piled back into Catherinette’s car and headed back to mine.

And as we were approaching the garage where I had parked, we saw it. The single funniest thing I’d seen all night. Catherinette blurted out “That guy is peeing!”. And he was. He was totally standing next to his car in the middle of a mostly empty parking lot, just letting it all go. We both looked and snickered, then rounded the next corner. And as we did, we saw his girlfriend, sitting in the passenger seat of the car laughing her ass off. Too funny.

We both made it safely home that night. The next morning I sent a text to my new girl friend saying simply “Aside from the 5 MILLION times I peed in the middle of the night, I’m fine. No cocktail flu here. Hope you’re good too.”

And you better believe we’ll be doing it all again soon.

Saturday Night

It’s been a while, but I had a date last night. A date with someone new. I was really excited too. I just knew that we were going to hit it off and have a fabulous time together. I stressed over what to wear, I did my makeup super carefully. I primped and fussed and was generally nervous. Because this was not just any date. This was a girl date with none other than the fabulous Catherinette Singleton of Bridget Jones Has Nothing on Me.

Honestly it’s a miracle the entire metropolis of Baltimore did not implode due to the fantastic force of the two of us combined. Seriously, we are just that fabulous. It was obvious to everyone around us. We are hot, single, and together there is no cocktail we can’t conquer. People are still talking about it. Especially that one bartender…. but I digress.

Anyway, I want to write about it more, but right now I have an exclusive just for all of you. I mean, obviously Catherinette and I are not exactly blogging under our true identities here. (Seriously, you don’t think my name is actually Jane Wonder, right?) Right. But I have here an absolute exclusive just for you. A REAL PICTURE OF US as seen last night. It’s an absolute exclusive, never before seen…. blahblahblah. Right after the cut, just for you.

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