Traumatized and Such

Hangover: Check.

Sore stomach: Check.

Traumatized?: Double check.

Stories to tell: Oh, you best believe I do.

***

It's all a whirlwind of memory. Picture it: Five girls, two suites at the Sheraton in Niagara Falls, more alcohol packed in the car than luggage. A handful of sparkly leis, a series of Bachelorette stickers pasted all over the car, a "Bride To Be" sash for the Sister. Drinking by 4 pm, late dinner, more drinking.

Headed to Peppermints, the male strip club.

OH. DEAR. GOD.

Arrived at around 8:45 pm -- door cost was $5 before 9 am. We were the FIRST PEOPLE THERE. Show didn't start until 9:30 pm...? Started drinking more to kill time. Befriended the wait staff, the manager of the club, and some of the dancers. One waiter was brilliant and so kind to my painfully nervous/panic attacked Sister. He did his best to calm her down, ease her nerves -- even brought her bottled water that he paid for. I gave him a MASSIVE tip later on because I was so thankful for his efforts.

The manager tried to convince us to buy the "Party Package" -- one girl, twenty strippers, one memorable photo. We declined.

Saw WAY TOO MANY NAKED MEN. OH GOD. Like.... I am still traumatized. Granted, I wasn't too shocked -- been to a burlesque show before, so I know what the striptease is all about. However, the major difference: Burlesque is more about an empowered performer, leaves more to the imagination. Strip clubs: Total opposite.

Drank to cope. Got epically drunk. Am still nursing the hangover. Stomach hates me. Still, had a hilarious time. Highlight of the evening: Watching the Sister's friends react to the men.

Direct quote from Friend 1: "I never even screamed this much at a Backstreet Boys' concert!!"

Direct quote from Friend 2: "I am SO not mature enough to be here. I don't know where I'm supposed to look! Do I look at his face?! But, he's thrusting at me! THRUSTING!"

Direct quote from Friend 3: "Where did these guys COME FROM? I mean, was their audition just to drop their pants? 'Uh, yeah, I've got brains.' 'Oh, but you're package is a bit too small, sorry.'"

... All I could think was how I'd have to put "strip club cover charge" on the Excel sheet I use to track my expenses. It'll definitely be the most interesting bit of change I spent during 2009.

Still, it was an entertaining evening, no doubt. I wish I hadn't gotten so drunk -- I would have liked to check out Clifton Hill at night, especially some of the haunted houses. For now, I must make amends to my liver and ease off the alcohol for a bit. I've been rough on my body this past week and I need a detox.

It's a damn good thing my Mom bought that juicer yesterday....

The Gay Gal and the Bachelorette Party: OH MY.

Oh, my word -- please help me. PLEASE, please help a gay gal out.

It is the Sister's Bachelorette Party tonight. We are going on a road trip of sorts and I am scared. Like, actually scared. There is talk of a male strip club and I am hoping that is just a joke to get her fiance in a tizzy.

Though, knowing her friends and their streak of crazy....

I get the distinct impression that bachelorette parties were not meant for queer women. I mean, all the penis paraphernalia is enough of a raunchy, glowing sign that clearly states, "IF YOU LIKE WOMEN, YOU BEST BE LOOKING ELSEWHERE, LADY."

... Not that I'd be lookin' on a night like this. No, I'll be the one in the corner with her hands over her eyes counting down the hours until I can go to bed. Or, if we pre-drink, then I will be the drunk one in the corner with her hands over her eyes....

Serious, though, even though I am the Maid of Honour, I know my role tonight is to rope in the others and to advocate on my Sister's behalf (e.g. "No, she will not have a stranger do shots off of her" or "No, you will not force her to put on a silly crown and announce to the room that it's her Last Fling Before the Ring" or "No, dirty bingo involving real interaction with strangers is not on our list of priorities," etc.)

So, essentially, I will be the bitch. And I do mean "bitch" in the sense of "female guard dog." All snarl, willing to bite.

Huh.... so perhaps a queer girl is an excellent ally for the straight-gal bride-to-be. I think I may have created a whole new market here, ladies.

Anyhow, I imagine it'll be a late post tomorrow. So, if you can pass along any of your positive vibes to help me through, I will VERY MUCH APPRECIATE IT.

VERY MUCH.

A Silly, Lusty Moffatt: The Jewellry Edition

Update on the Sister's Wedding Plans:

• Wedding dress: Obtained.
  
• Bridesmaids' dresses: So hot, obtained.
  
• Groom/groomsmen suits: Deposits made.
  
• Bride's gifts to the bridesmaids: Purchased.
  

As the Official Maid of Honour, I was given the privilege of joining my mother and sister this evening for the purchasing of the bridesmaids' presents.

Yes, I know it more than slightly ruins the surprise of a gift. I would agree. However, it DID give me an advantage when it comes to the sparklefied, glamourous world of jewellry for the Wedding Night. (Oh, P.S. -- It's a New Year's Eve wedding. Glam will be an absolute requirement, I should imagine).

Other highlights of the experience include: Two blindingly gorgeous sales girls who fawned over us as we perused the necklace collection.

I was the model for the trek since I will be wearing one of the two options on the Wedding Day. And oh, wait -- um, what else could be hotter than a lovely woman taking her time to adorn you with a variety of necklaces? Oh, right, maybe it was the fact that she fondled the necklace chains and even had the brass to smooth out those rogue beads against my chest. And OH, the heels that other sales lady had on... absolutely impossible and undeniably attractive.

All in all, I'd say our excursion was a success.... on numerous levels.

I am such a silly, lusty Moffatt sometimes. But, would you really want me any other way--

THOUGHT NOT!