Have you missed me? I was in Middle of Nowhere, Texas celebrating the soon to married and soon to be my in-law, Hilarie.
We woke up at the ass crack of dawn Friday morning to get on a plane to Houston. Then took the first of the many (4 times!) 1 1/2 hour drive to Hilarie’s hometown. We did some driving around on 4 wheelers and came back to a crawfish boil in the works.
Now I’m not opposed to eating things that are messy, drip all over you and involve grabbing an animal’s body and ripping it apart – I just don’t want to be the one doing it. Obviously, I’m a terrible vegetarian. I did as many as I could stand, making sure not to look Sherman the Crawfish in the eyes, telling him how sorry I was about what was going to happen, trying not to give them (anymore) names, and gently removing their shells. That is until Hilarie’s dad plopped about 20 already completed pieces in front of me. Whew, glad that’s over with. Without the sad eyes, all my guilt goes away. I pretend they grow like this on trees and tell myself I need the protein and essential fish oils they provide.
Later that day, to get Hilarie out of the house during decorating, we made a quick trip to the mall and arrived back to a Sex and the Citified house. There were stars all around, posters of Carrie Bradshaw, New York City skyline, and all the girls, a beautiful cake, blingy jewelry to wear, Sex and the City playing on tv, and so many chips I almost exploded at the sight of it. Since Hilarie and I have been off chips for more than a month, I was so excited to see pita chips, frito chips, tortilla chips, and hot fries. And salsa. More than missing chips, I’ve missed salsa. And there really is nothing you can substitute for dipping in salsa.
From there we drove back to Houston, checked into our hotel, and headed off to Polelateaz. We weren’t sure what to expect, especially when they make you enter through the shady back door. But it turned out to be a great class. We learned how to walk sexy, swing around a pole, do some chair dancing, “peekaboo”, and “outline” our bodies. It was hilarious, a blast and very un-stripperish, until the end where we all got to throw money at Hilarie while she danced for us.
Then to a Mexican restaurant, where we proceeded to eat all the chips and salsa the restaurant had, Hilarie did a little merengue with a waiter and some other inappropriateness involving a lower back fake tattoo behind the bar.
Then tried the place next door which was completely empty, we made our own dance floor (tried out a couple of our new moves) and acted like we were supermodels in front of a fan.
At a semi-reasonable hour we were back at the hotel trying to get to the pool, which was closed, so we just stayed in the room where there was lots of breast pumping (from an actual mother, not the rest of us), giggling, eating junk food and hanging out.
Like a true bachelorette, Hilarie woke up still in her bathing suit, fake eyelashes on, and ate penis cake for breakfast.
I think that means the weekend was a success.
Can’t wait for wedding shenanigans.