The Importance of Being Idle: Pumped Up Kicks

I'm finally trying out Spotify. I don't understand how it works yet, though it looks fairly straightforward with a purty interface. So far I've been listening to Ellie Goulding and the whole album has been playing with a few ads. What's the difference between this and the version you pay for?

I've been stuck in the house all day because of the pouring rain. One thing I did was trash a garbage bag full of clothes. Despite having only worn most of these shirts during the 2001-2003 Sutton Place era, they were hard to part with (what if I one day suddenly had the desire to wear them again?) On the plus side, there is a TON of space in the closet now.

Hey, did you hear that The Stills broke up? Too bad.

I've been watching more Locked Up Abroads lately as well (best show ever.) During the commercial break while I was tensely awaiting the Brooklyn teenager's sentence for trying to smuggle heroin out of Colombia, I saw an ad for a show called Break Out. Apparently, its reenactments of jail breaks!! I am so shocked at how amazing the National Geographic channel is, and I haven't even watched anything about nature yet.

Check out this wack-a-doodle bike I saw in LIC:

A few weeks ago Dave and I went to see Man U at Red Bulls arena. On the first day we got to see their practice which was awesome because it was first come first served and no one was there, so we got to sit in the third row in the middle. Also, all of the players were out doing their Rockette-like drills and played a mock game.

In case you didn't know, Michael Owen is still as gorgeous as ever.

I took a photo with him back in the day.

Also, here's a quick video of the team walking past the crowd.

The second day they played the MLS All-Stars and I got to see David Beckham do his thing. Chicharito and Giggs didn't play, nor did Landon Donovan. I figure for a $90 ticket, I surely am owed approximately a $15 refund.

So, I've got 6 weddings to go to this year. And that means a lot of connected events. I'm not posting bachelorette party photos directly on Facebook, so instead I'll post them indirectly on Facebook through my blog.

For Rachel's bachelorette we went to the wineries. We stayed at her friends' house in Jamesport which had a tennis court, a pool, a ping pong table, a giant Elvis statue(?), and it overlooked the Long Island Sound. In other words, it was kind of amazing.

We took a limo from winery to winery.

Wine junkies

Go Rachel Go!

Back at the house we decorated penis cookies. In case you were wondering, there will be more penis cookie decorating, penis-shaped dessert, and penis-destruction to come in this blog post.

Whee!

I'm all shook up

The next bach party was the following weekend in the Hamptons for Erica. We stayed in another amazing house for this one.

Every good hen do starts off with a fly swatter fight.

Jackie T. had the biggest shoes I've ever seen.

Yay penis straws!

And penis cake! (Not creamy inside.)

There was also a jacuzzi on the left and the canal behind the pool, plus two outdoor decks and an entire outdoor kitchen. My back got nice and toasty while laying out (aka bright red and blister-popping good.)

Not sure who that guy is?

Julie's bachelorette was in the city. We took a striptease class and I'm definitely not posting any photos of that. Before going out for the night, we destroyed a penis pinata.

Then there was some dancing on the pole action (but not what we learned in the striptease class.)

Speaking of stripping, at the risk of sounding like a grandma, I absolutely cannot believe what girls wear out to clubs these days. On one pole, a girl was thrusting against it like her life depended on it, with some guy ramming his crotch into her from behind (clothed, but still totally unnecessary.) The other pole was much worse - some chick in a skintight black dress was also doing the thrust, with less force but enough so that her dress shifted all the way up to her waist!! Her friend told her to pull it down, and she barely did, then kept dancing with it up. Some guy saw me and Vicki hysterical (I'm talking projectile tears flying off our faces from laughing so much), that he stopped me just to say "DO YOU SEE THAT GIRL'S ASS??" Yes, yes I most certainly did. When I was going to bars at that age we wore jeans and a tank top and still managed to pull guys while keeping our dignity in tact and our asses covered. I met Dave in a turtleneck and bellbottoms, I mean are these 2011 non-outfits really a necessity??

Non-hos at da club

Afterwards we got pizza and Julie's sister Erica was taking photos of all of the ingredients, as if it was this new food phenomenon. The guys who worked there were really confused but it was funny if you were drunk like us.

Glenna's bachelorette party was on a Thursday night and I had work the next day, so naturally I participated in the open bar and flip cup portions of the night.

I probably should have stopped playing after the tenth game or so.

Her sister had a bag of little goodies for everyone like giant gem rings, rings with doggies on them, and butterfly barrettes. The next morning I woke up with a full face of make up and all of the accessories on my fingers and hair, plus I was still drunk, so work was awesome that day.

The final bachelorette party of the summer was Jenn's. This one started off with our car breaking down right as we crossed into Delaware after having driven for 3 hours. This is us eating KFC in front the gas station while we were trying to figure out a plan for not being stranded in the middle of nowhere.

We wanted to get 40s to complete the scene but they don't sell beer at gas stations in Delaware (BOO.)

Cheap gas and girls on a rock in the 'ware

Long story short, after about an hour trying to figure out how the hell to get out of New Castle, DE, a random AAA truck showed up and saved the day. This guy put our car on the flatbed and drove the 5 of us an hour and a half to the house at 1 am which was kind of a miracle.

Then we made penis cookies.

I still don't know why Kristine put the food coloring pen in her mouth but I'm going to go out on a limb and say it was an accident.

The weekend was pretty standard. A couple of people fell on the floor in the bar, a few puked, one of my friends came home minus her dress (you know who you are), I almost got our asses kicked by another group of girls because of my big drunk mouth, there was one door-slamming-in-the-eye incident thanks to the bouncer, a dance party on the counter with the bachelor party we'd met at the bar (while the bachelorette slept on the couch right in the middle of it), random guys showing up and fighting in our house, and some girls dissing us by saying "What are you, 28??" Ha, we wish.

On the last day, four of the girls had to go an hour south into Maryland to pick up the now-fixed car. The rest of us made two trips in the heatwave to the next town over to return all of the bikes we'd rented during the week. The logistics of the operation forced Ilyssa to sit in a car seat for one of the rides back to the house.