For some reason, every time another one of my friends gets engaged this song immediately pops into my head.
It’s kind of sad–I’m happy for them and I totally support their decisions and am probably slightly envious–but I assure you that it’s (pretty much) ironic. It’s mostly because the sheer amount of weddings that happen in the summer, and that have been happening in my life.
Last night, I went to another Bachelorette party.
It was a good time, complete with garlic fries, hard cider, homemade cookies, surprisingly detailed balloons featuring a certain part of a fella’s anatomy (give it a guess) and the requisite risque lingerie, all taking place at a local restaurant called Weebee’s.
(Weebee’s is delectable, by the way, to any Bozemanites who may peruse this blog!)
I, of course, supplied the edible bra, because let’s face it, every girl needs one of those.
My friend, even despite the balloons her super mature friends kept shoving in her face (maybe I had a little something to do with that…) and the scandalous undergarments (being opened on an open terrace of a restaurant…where else?) was glowing. That’s so cliche, but it’s so nice to see!
I’ve know this particular friend, Karli, since I was about in 2nd grade, and I’m psyched to see her so happy.
Bachelorette parties are also some of my favorite parts of weddings. You don’t need a date, for one–even when I have a boyfriend I never have a date for a wedding, go figure–and who doesn’t love to shop for edible underwear?!?
Well, my sister might not, but hey, it’s my job as the older and wiser one to show her the ways of the world. (Muahaha).
I’m at the point in my life (well, at little earlier than I would like, maybe) where engagements and weddings are a common occurrence. I pretty much love weddings–they’re so happy–which is a good thing because every year the wedding bells ring more often.
It gets me thinking about my wedding. If I even have one, that is. Sometimes I really want to get married here (you can rent it!), and sometimes here, and sometimes I just want to elope and not tell a soul.
Sometimes I don’t even want to get married at all.
My mom informed me they’ve always figured I would have a big wedding–after all, my graduation party reached into the 200s of people.
Although it was combined with my friend Brian (who’s currently with the Peace Corps in Kyrgyzstan–read his blog here–he doesn’t believe in proof-reading but it’s still entertaining) who happens to know the entire world.
Still, it kind of freaks me out that marriage is the next natural step. Don’t get me wrong, I have a serious boyfriend that will soon be my live-in boyfriend, so who knows.
I may be the next one who bites the dust.
Okay, who am I kidding, I can barely write that much less seriously consider it. Guess I’m a late bloomer, as always!
(Except for the mammary area…I was way ahead of the curve on that one. I guess I’m just usually a late bloomer in the emotional department).
(Congratulations to all of you out there who have ironically bitten the dust–happiness to all of you!)