Ugh, bachelorette parties.

I've been on-site this entire week and haven't even made it to my desk for lunch until this afternoon. Well... Technically, it's not my lunch break anymore, since I went out for Cuban food, but I have a few minutes until my next meeting to drink some Diet Pepsi and digest those plantains.

Thus far this week, it's been alternating between sunny and POURING RAIN every other day, and I've done random things like have piano lessons, go jogging, spend fifty bajillion dollars at White House Black Market, where I went in search of an outfit for...

My celebration! It's this Saturday. Rini, Lovely, Natty and Pepper will be there, as Batman and RH are in their respective Faraway Lands, and it would be inappropriate to invite anybody not invited to the wedding.

I despise formal bachelorette parties. You know, the ones you accidentally run into at a random bar of a spring Saturday evening? Raucous, drunken girls, one wearing a plastic tiara and bandolier proclaiming her to be the "Bride-to-be" or somesuch? And what are they celebrating? The last few hours/days/weeks of "singlehood"? Commit debauchery (or posture as if you're committing it) before the weighty fetters of marriage are firmly clamped to your submissive wrists? Grow up, people. And grow some class. Attitudes like this are byproducts of a mistaken societal tendency to associate marriage with a loss of individuality and freedom.

No. I'd rather dress up in haute couture, have some fancy dinner and some champagne with awesome people, and then go dancing - to celebrate something awesome! And there are plenty of awesome things to celebrate, so who needs an excuse?