Party Like a Rockstar

So I have a tonne to catch you all up on! Firstly – My Hen’s do!

I must admit, a part of me dreaded the thought of letting my maid “dude” of honor plan a girl’s night out for me and my bridal squad, but he did a grand job when it came to picking something I’d actually enjoy. It was quite daunting for him to be given the duties usually assigned to the role of a female, but hey, screw gender roles – his organizational skills were awesome! The best part was that they had chosen Halloween as the date for our night out – and if anyone knows me well, they know I love any excuse to dress up! Their timing was on point.

Male strippers, the typical first stop for your standard bachelorette party, were off the cards, as the manager wouldn’t allow boys into the club. Fair enough – and I must say, I have seen my fair share of male strip shows in my time and I think it’s a kinda been – there – done – that kinda experience for me.

I was dropped off to DOH (Dude of Honor)’s house early on Saturday morning and we took off to pick up one of my bridesmaids and meet another on the North Shore, where they surprised me with an aerial silks class!! How freakin’ awesome, right?! It’s something I’ve always been in awe of and always wanted to try, so I was virtually running through the doors to meet our circus instructors.

We started off with stretches, (and thank God we did, because man, did we feel that burn afterwards!) and then we were taught a few of the basics before moving onto climbing and all that freaky stuff you see on screen.

The first time I was really suspended on my own I screamed! I was so excited to finally be living out one of my dreams, and I’m pretty sure I looked like a majestic unicorn princess, to be honest with you. (If you were to ignore the sweat patches and chaffing.)

We took some awesome photos and stared a little too long at the instructor’s abs, and we all took turns at forwards flipping from about a meter and a half off the ground. It felt so unnatural to let go and just let yourself fall forwards, but it was such a thrilling, electrifying experience and I think we all overcame our fear of heights that morning. It was hilarious egging each other on and watching all the failed attempts at “graceful” landings. I honestly had such a blast! Definitely an activity I’d recommend trying – but definitely stick to a small group. With just the four of us it was a good opportunity for a lot of one – on – one with the instructors and I felt like we got to fit a lot more into our session than if we had brought a larger group.

Warning: Don’t get your acrylics done the day before attempting aerial silks. And there are probably better underwear choices than g- bangers for this sort of “extreme sport.” Ugh. Never again.

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Afterwards we stopped off to do a little shopping – underwear, PJ’s, tutus, bandanas – you know, the necessities. Then it was back to DOH’s for nibbles and drinks. Being Halloween, all the food was kinda creepy – from bread “fingers” (complete with fingernails) and dip, vodka jelly with floating eyeballs and a giant bread spider! I treated myself to a cigar and a few glasses of champagne on the sunny balcony and we chilled out listening to some old school classics.

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Now, I’m not a drinker these days, but after tasting the vodka jelly I thought, “Oh yeah, this is weak. I’ll eat an entire jug of this stuff.” And it wasn’t til a few glasses of champagne later that I really noticed the sneaky affects of the lethal stuff. Oh boy. I was in for a big night!

While slightly tipsy we attempted our Halloween makeup. And considering we were slightly rushing to get out and hit the town, we didn’t do too badly! I went for the half- skull look (which didn’t last long without smudging before the first few drinks,) and stuck a “veil” tiara on my head to brag about the fact that I am soon to be married. Tutu and killer heals and I was ready to go, along with my bridesmaids who wore matching pink bandanas. Cutest wee gang you ever did see.

We chowed down on a few mini pizzas before heading out, then stopped off at a house party down the road to drop off a friend who wasn’t coming with us, where I took a wee tumble on a stair. It was all on from there!

When we got to town we made one last stop at a hotel room where one of my bridesmaids, Lala’s friends were staying. It was the first time we’d met them, and DOH can be…. Well, let’s just say he can be rather “boisterous” sometimes.

So we’d only been there five minutes when DOH asked if anyone would fancy a glass of champagne. I joked that he should pop the bottle outside and that everyone should look out, and I wish he’d taken me seriously, because seconds later there was a tremendous BANG! and suddenly the room was rained in champagne showers and high – pitched screams. Things just went from 0 – 100 real quick.

I could’ve died. I could’ve killed him. I could’ve crawled under the bed and hid in embarrassment. Instead I apologized over and over while dabbing at the champagne stains on the carpet. It was literally EVERYWHERE; in all of their clothes and their dinner, which had been laid out while they were getting ready to go out themselves. Oh my Lordy. Thankfully they were really polite and forgiving… or at least acted like they were, which was nice of them. But I think they may have secretly been regretting letting a few random psychos into their hotel room. Lala was obviously ashamed, and I don’t blame her. I felt. Like. A dick. And I could tell DOH did too. Let’s just say we were out of their real fast. Talk about horrible first impressions!

We weren’t exactly sure where we should go first, but we bumped into one lady who one of the bridesmaids happened to know from juvenile prison a decade ago. She told us to follow her to a bar down the dodgy side of town, so of course that sounded like a great idea.

Worst. Club. Ever.

On the way there my bridal squad explained that they had put together a “bucket list” for me for the night, including random dares like “do the chicken dance on stage” and “take a photo in the male toilet.” It was at this club that I decided to get up and get the dance floor heated up, but alas, I was the only one dancing, til some creep tried to dance with me and I quickly sculled my drink so we could leave, despite the fact that they were about to announce the winners for their “best dressed” competition, and we so would have won that flight to Fiji, hands down.

We had to stop into the local strip club, that was a must. It was actually the last club I worked in before leaving the industry. It’s funny how quickly girls shift from club to club though, and I didn’t even recognize a single dancer, but we were given free entry for being so damn cute anyway, so that was a plus. Oh, and the bartender shouted us a couple of rounds of shots – bonus! It was here that I completed another dare – I asked a random stranger for their business card. Alas, it was only a strip club card, but it qualified.

Another one of my besties joined us here, and by this stage the alcohol had decided to kick in. A few of us needed the bathroom, and his work was just across the road, so all of a sudden after disappearing through some dark alleyway we were transported into a brightly lit office where they had a free candy machine and toilets for us to use. Yussss! 

It was here that I was able to tick one of the tasks off my list, and took a terrible photo in the male toilet. I also realized after washing my hands that I’d accidentally mistaken one of the office work shirts on a coat hanger for a handtowel… (Oops! Sorry!)

Afterwards we grabbed handfuls of jaffas and escaped back into the night through the elevator, where we accidentally dropped some of the candy, then into our friend’s car and down town to park up by a club I had heard was meant to be really good.

It turns out Lala’s friends happened to all be in the same club, too. I loved the music instantly. We ordered 2 bottles of champagne and got straight on the D.F. I ticked off yet another “dare” from my bucket list in the bathroom, where I tried to flirt with a random girl in an accent. It didn’t work out very well for me, but the girls had a good time laughing at me.

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The rest of the night was spent drinking, laughing, dancing, trying to drag DOH away from the German backpackers on the street and scoffing kebabs. Afterwards I headed back to DOH’s and we had a few more drinks as the sun rose and stung our eyes like poison. It was definitely time for bed.

I am proud to say that I survived my hen’s night. No one died; I think the closest we got was Lala attacking a dickhead who pushed her off the stage while she was dancing. And despite not being a drinker, I think I did alright. I didn’t even throw up. *Self high five.* All in all it was a mean night and I was glad to spend it with some good friends. Thanks to the sneaky foxes who organized this – y’all are the tits.

 

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