Well, I am recovering from one of the best weekends of my life to date – my hen’s weekend. It was the mother of all hen’s weekends, so it’s a slow and painful recovery, but I don’t regret it.
I think I may have brain damage, but I suspect that is a good thing – it is assisting with blocking out parts of the weekend that are best forgotten. Like the lap dance I did for the policeman from Hamilton. I was dressed as a cheerleader. Ouch.
The costume was partly my fault. I made it clear in no uncertain terms that I was not going to wear a veil into town. There was no veil. There was a plastic glittery cowboy hat.
We had a hotel suite in town. There was a dodgy moment when I got stuck in the ceiling cavity. I found one of Shaun’s shirts and an ironing board in the bathroom. I am not good at ironing. I figured that the best way to avoid the task was to hide everything up in the ceiling. I have had better ideas.
There are photos, but none of them are fit for the web. My skirt was too short and my top was too flimsy. It was lucky they primed me with more alcohol than any one person should drink in a lifetime before they showed it to me.
It is also lucky that I have already found someone to marry, because I suspect that after that performance, my chances of finding anyone else would be pretty slim!! Guess I could always get a job as a stripper…