My sister's bridal shower was yesterday. I have to say it was a huge success. Everything went very smoothly, I wasn't a complete nutcase, and people seemed to have a good time. The place looked great, my house was sparkly, the decorations somehow made it up, check out the cute napkins.
I'm telling you, I should do this for a living. Alyssa and I planned the entire shower over instant message. So 2005.
The favors were quite popular, and I'm sure you can see why. Thanks to Terra's suggestion I ordered those fortune cookies with the personalized message inside. I put them in decorative chinese food boxes. How freaking cute, huh?
So there I am, all Martha fucking Stewart, right? Homemade carrot cake, pasta jambalaya, the Stepford Wife dress from hell. I'm taking white, floral print, pink fucking gingham ribbon tied at the waist, white sandals (before memorial day? the horror!) the works.
I'm Bree Van De Kamp with a cake knife in one hand and a Coors Light in the other. Sometimes I impress even myself.
After grabbing a short nap we went out dancing. As you can see from the post below, it was a lot of fun. Just to warn you, Rosie McCann's serves really big shots of Patron. Big.
D-Nice was not lying, I did have a mishap with a bush. I almost died too, not from the scrape but from laughing so hard.
See? Be careful out there. These are dangerous times. (this is my leg, Cat. not my arm)
I got home at 4am. I need more coffee.
Oh, this was funny. My friend lost her wallet at the bar and wanted to leave her phone number with the bartender just in case they found it. That's not the funny part. Also, someone did find it and she got it back, so that turned out well. Anyway, I pulled a small notebook and a pen out of my purse so she could write her information for the bartender and some guy next to me says "I've never seen someone carry around a pen and a notebook, are you a major player or what?" I look at him and reply "I'm not a player, I'm obsessive compulsive". He so didn't know what to make of that.
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