For my BP girls

Apologies for my extended absence, dear readers. I have returned. I know it's only 6 am, but in her quest for the gold, SB woke up with her daddy this morning at 5 am to start her Olympic training. Since I couldn't sleep, I figured I might as well give my public what they want.



We had a wonderful time at the beach, although some of us had a little more fun than others. I have seriously considered not blogging about the weekend, but there were too many moments that are just too good to pass up. Also, I know most of you don't remember much of the weekend at all, so here are the highlights; some of the names have been changed to protect the not so innocent.

For those of you who don't know, I spent the last few days in Florida with 6 other girls at my cousin's bachelorette party. Around 10 pm on Thursday night, we loaded up 5 girls in one vehicle and left from Jackson. We had just enough room for our luggage in the back. We made it to Hattiesburg around midnight, and this is when I realized that the two girls we were picking up there were riding in the same car as us. And they insisted that their luggage go as well. It was a sight to see as LB was hanging over the back seat, holding in the suitcases while we tried to close the back door. I snapped a photo of the event, but unfortunately it was too dark to see.



We didn't make it to the house until 3 am, so of course everyone except SB and me slept until noon on Friday. My roommate, aka "Check Please," drove the whole way, bless her heart, but bless mine for bringing my SBTB mix and singing my little heart out to keep her awake. I also do rap, and wowed the group with my version of Nelly's "Number 1" on the way to HBurg.



We all burned to a crisp on Friday, so no one wanted to go back to the beach Saturday, which was a good thing since it was raining. While Check Please, "Sweatpants by the Swimming Pool" and I went to the mall for some serious shopping, the rest of the girls thought it would be a good idea to go ahead and break open a case of Miller Chills. It was technically, afternoon. When we returned from our shopping excursion, the Miller Chills were gone and so was the sobriety of the rest of our group. So the party was off to a roaring start.



Three hours and seven showers, wardrobe, hair and makeup later, we finally made it to dinner around 9. Since the wait was about an hour, the group decided it would be best to wait outside, at the bar. As you may have guessed from the photo, we didn't attract any attention at all.

We all wore nametags, and even SB had one proudly displayed on my huge stomach until Side Salad #2 lost hers and took SB's. She then promptly lost that one doing some serious moves on the dance floor. I knew things were getting a little out of control when Check Please became very distressed and started screaming, "You lost Sarah Beth!" over and over again at the top of her lungs.

Professional Drinker bought a round of shots (water for me and SB) and the party was back on track. One hour and many drinks later, our table was ready, but our party was not. While most of us ordered dinner, Check Please and Side Salad #2 went back to the deck to hold a table for us at the tiki bar. This decision would come back to haunt them later that night.

I felt like our party was pretty well-behaved inside the restaurant, considering the circumstances. My sentiments were not shared by all of the other restaurant goers. I wish I had a picture of the 115-year-old woman at the table next to us who gave us the evil eye the entire time we were there. I don't think she appreciated the noise level or the way it increased every five minutes when someone raised a toast to Jodi.

After dinner, back at the bar, Check Please and Side Salad came through with a table and had also managed to locate a bachelor party group. While Check Please quickly gave the guys a brief summary of everyone's life story, including their current virginity status, I, being the most sober person at the bar, quickly realized that all of the men in the party were married, except for the bachelor, who wasn't in all honesty very talented.

I felt very sorry for Underage Dancer #2, who was the only single one in our group. The only talent we saw all weekend had been married for 6 months, but this did not stop her from spinning circles around him on the dance floor.

The party came to a halt when Side Salad #2 suddenly retreated from the dance floor and collapsed in the chair next to mine. Thankfully, Sweatpants was pretty sober, and she helped me collect the others and load them up in the car.

CAUTION: If you get sick easily, please skip the rest of this post. This is not for the weak of stomach. However, after what they put me through this weekend, I cannot let them off so easy.

This is where the real fun began. Halfway to the house, we pulled over for Underage Dancer #2 to unleash her demons in a hotel parking lot. While Side Salad #2 was almost unconscious in the front seat, I asked if she needed to get out while we were stopped. She assured me she was fine as she struggled for the door handle. She leaned over and let it go just as the door swung open, then promptly fell out into a huge pile of her side salad.

Poor Sweatpants took a hit of partially-digested side salad, but assured everyone that she had been puked on plenty of times before. She was kind enough to leave out the fact that every other time, it had been by her 4-year-old students.

We finally were able to get the sickos back in the car and race back to the house. Check Please ran to the bathroom, moaning, "I promise I'm not drunk; I just HATE alcohol!" She also made many meaningless promises about how she would never drink again and did NOT want a bachelorette party of her own. I would have stayed to hold her hair back, but SB was cartwheeling on my bladder, so I went in search of an unused toilet.

I went across the hall find Sweatpants coming out of her bathroom, where How Many Shots Did I Have was relieving herself of her tiny dinner. I was pretty sure the other bathrooms were occupied, and for a few minutes, I thought I might have to go in the ocean. Thankfully, the house had 5 bathrooms, and since only 4 girls were sick, that left one for me. It was a long night, but we all survived and made it home safely Sunday night.

Ok seriously, I've been at the computer for over an hour, and I've got to feed SB. Here's a quick ending.

Thanks to Professional Drinker for letting us use your house and for not getting sick on me. Good luck with Mex.

Underage Dancer, I'm very sorry about the lack of talent this weekend. It couldn't be helped. You stayed strong, though. Way to party with the married men.

Thanks to Sweatpants for staying sober with me most of the time. I couldn't have survived this weekend without you, and I doubt most of the other girls would have survived without you.

Side Salad, I really don't know what to say. I thought you were in big trouble Saturday night. I'm so glad you survived. and that you still remember who you are. I also don't know anyone who could fall so gracefully into a pile of their own vom.

Thanks to How Many Shots for laying out in the rain with me. We totally got some great sun. And how about that dead lizard? That was really something. Even though you don't remember talking on the phone Saturday night, I know you still remember who you are.

Poor little Check Please was sick all the way home; I hope you're feeling better now. Let me know you're still alive. I'm sorry you had to leave the bar early on Saturday. I know you weren't ready to go. Blame it on Side Salad.