Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Weekend at Gary's -The Best Bachelorette Party EVER

Everyone hates bachelorette parties…except the bride. There’s really no bridesmaid that is super pumped about spending all night spending money and pretending their bride is a queen, following her around in matching outfits attending to her every whim. But my bridesmaids are not just any bridesmaids…they are super heroes. They are grand adventurers. And without a doubt, they are the best friends I could ever ask for.

This is the tale of our Weekend at Gary’s.





Our story begins with me having no idea what’s going on. My bridesmaids had planned a surprise weekend (which I did eventually find out was in Nashville) of which I knew none of the details. 

Friday evening I met with two of the girls, we loaded up on Red Bull and Rhianna and hit the road to Nashville.





We arrived to what seemed to be not a hotel-type neighborhood and rolled up to a condo looking house. This would be Gary’s house, and our home for the weekend. Gary’s house, as it turns out, was an AirBNB. I’d never stayed in one before and if you’re not familiar with AirBNB let me inform you.
It’s where super awesome, trusting people, open their doors to strangers and rent out their home to travelers.  In our case, Gary the architect (*made up backstory fact) lent us his super gorgeous home, decorated in vinyl records and Nashville themed art clad with photos of his loved ones that helped fueled our ongoing backstory of who Gary was in real life.

When I walked in I took in the amazing spread of snacks and décor that looked straight up outta Pinterest, and also my favorite wine ready to go. My ladies had clearly outdone themselves, and we were ready to party. The hashtag #weekendatgarys and #garybeforemarry was created and my excitement over the hot tub started the evening.
My MOH freaking made this. With her bare hands. LIKE CUT THE WOOD AND DREW DESIGNS ON IT AND MADE IT. DYING. 



My future sister and mother-in-law made Pinterest come to life with these adorable snackages. The jello shots were too delicious. TOO. DAMN. DELICIOUS. 


Now, this is how you know you have the right kind of friends. When they have an itinerary for the whole weekend (legitimately printed out, thanks to your super-planner sister-in-law…a girl after your own heart) and have scouted all the must-dos in Nashville. (P.S. The itinerary had cowboy boots and hats on it!)

And like that we were off... 

They whisked me off to the most hipsterish place I’ve ever been…the Pharmacy. Apparently this is where all the cool kids go, as evident by the boatloads of handlebar mustaches and beers I didn’t recognize.




We had the world’s least enthusiastic server which only made it even better as we tried anything we could think of to make him smile. (He didn’t, though.) The burgers were AH MAH ZING and probably exactly what I didn’t know I needed for the night that would follow.




Afterwards we retreated to Gary’s where one of the girls suggested we go to Play. We were pretty much convinced after learning that there would be a drag show and that Ke$ha had a song about it, but we were COMPLETELY convinced after she mentioned there would be a foam pit involved.


We piled into our Uber in our swimsuits and outfits and headed to a gay bar. Already this party was more than I could hope for, and I just didn’t even know what was coming.

After paying the insane cover charge, we found our way to the drag show. The place was packed and after a few acts we decided to further investigate the seemingly endless hallways and rooms of the club. We found our way to the main dance floor and decided we definitely made the right choice. It was full of lights, a disco ball, and dubstep. Although the dance floor was empty, it gave us a chance to admire the bartenders and pre-game with cheap tequila. And boy, it was cheap tequila.



Soon enough we felt brave enough to find this rumored foam pit. We traversed down the hallway to a door way where people covered in suds were flowing out from and ventured in.

This is all I want out of life every day. 


You know when people say that if they won the lottery they would fill up a pool with jello or something? This was basically that feeling but about a parking lot. The lot had a fence all the way around it, a stage with a DJ, and bubble machines raining down over the crowd. The bubbles were about knee high, but that was enough for us. Most of us dove in, and the others stayed behind to capture proof that this was real life.

As we danced our faces off, swimming around with a bunch of strangers in bubbles, they began to rise. Before we knew it, the bubbles were up to our shoulders. We’d dive down and disappear, and people would suddenly appear up from the tide. I can’t describe the feeling, but it was bizarre and incredible and probably the most fun I’ve ever had on a dance floor.

After a while we exited off the bubble-floor and headed back inside. It was very cold, and we were covered in soapy water. We toweled off though, and headed in to the now packed dance floor. There was twerking. There was a lot of twerking. Not by us, although I fell victim to dancing to close to someone’s behind as they twerked into my face. THANKS, DANCE PLATFORM.
He had that booty, tho

Before long we befriended a lone dancer, flailing around in khakis and a button up shirt. Clearly, he was misplaced and alone and we decided to make him ours. 

His name was Brandon, and he told us he was a banker. We had guessed as much, but we let him tell us how important he was. He seemed to need it. 

Although we prefaced our conversation with the majority of our group was taken and the odds were not in his favor, he insisted on buying us all drinks all night.

Maybe because he knew he would eventually take off all his clothes in the foam pit and we would need to stop security from hauling him out.

We headed for round two in the foam pit and danced until they shut it down. We helped Brandon find his pants then headed back into the bar.

While we were ordering, Brandon decided to climb up onto the wall divider. A simple mistake, as it's located mere feet from the dance platform. But it was too late. Apparently Play has a no tolerance rule for dancing on the wall, and he was pulled down by security.

My loyal bridesmaids party pulled me back from arguing with the bouncer, and even the bartender tried to plead with him, but it was too late.

He hauled Brandon out, and he waved to us. RIP Brandon in Khakis. We barely knew ye.


For the remainder of the weekend, we would drink in his honor.


We cabbed home and ended up in the hot tub before finally getting to bed around four.


But the party began again the next day with breakfast at T Swifts favorite place in Nashville, Fidos.

I came prepared in my tiara and sash, and we attempted to get the story of when my wedding actually was straight because we got sick of explaining why we were celebrating and it was in January.

We were rockstars, though.

We then went to our first secret stop...which ended up being the Arrington Vineyards. It was beautiful and we were all in our matching wedding party gear and it was a blast. We did a wine tasting and relaxed and it was perfect.





We had a quick nap-stop back at Gary's where we piled in bed (Gary's wonderful, massive, king sized, super soft bed) and watched Broad City before the ultimate evening began.

It started with us getting ready, and then me coming outside to find a limo waiting. A FREAKING LIMO.



The plan was to drive around Nashville, eat pizza, and drink champagne like freaking badass bees. 

Our first stop was this amazing look out, where you could see the whole city. It was right at sunset and it was perfect (they literally had all our stops planned and I couldn't get over how much time and effort was put into this weekend). 

Then we visited the Nashville Parthenon and took a bunch of pictures and got to pet some super soft adorable pups. 




Unfortunately, everything in our limo was broken. The AC, the lights, the radio. At this point, we were really starting to realize the AC part of the problem. My sister-in-law got on the phone like a BOSS.

 

So we got the limo ride free if we got out where we were, which happened to be the County Music Hall of Fame.

We hopped out, and as we were deciding what to do we ran into two rickshaw drivers who convinced us that they would bring the party, and they totes did.






What began as a quick ride to find a horse drawn carriage, ended with a three hour rickshaw ride around Nashville. Tim and Tim #2 (Ryan, I think was probably his real name..) showed us all these amazing places that we never would have seen otherwise, including some history about the city.

They gave us some pretty cool stories to tell, and pictures like these...





It was pretty much the best experience I've ever had in my life. They paraded us up and down Broadway and made me feel like a parade princess and made us feel like the coolest bachelorette party of all time, which really, what else could you ask for?
via GIPHY

We said our goodbyes in front of Coyote Ugly and bid the Tims farewell.

And then the dancing began. There was lots of dancing.


And well, that's all we'll say about Coyote Ugly. But there was this guy:

So. 

We ended up at another ball that had a disco ball, and that's pretty much all I remember from there. 

Somehow our Uber got us to a Cookout where we met Jeff-Michael-Rick whom we convinced to buy us all food. 

We ate with him, and then retreated back to Gary's.


 

The next morning, we assessed whether or not we were going to live much longer, and came to the conclusion that none of our legs worked and we would probably all be dead soon without breakfast.

We headed to a place that Tim #1 had pointed out on our tour, Monell's. It's an all you can eat, family style place that serves down home Southern food. IT WAS SO GOOD OHMYGOD. We sat with strangers who had just gotten engaged and so that was fun.

I was still wearing my tiara and I have no regrets.



We headed our separate ways after leaving Gary a lengthy note about how much we love him and his beautiful house.



It was one of the most fun, memorable weekends of my entire life. I laughed so hard, and I got to scream Rhianna lyrics at people from a rickshaw and dance in a foam pit so I really don't know where my life goes from here.

Thank you to my beautiful, intelligent, generous friends who went above and beyond the call of duty making this bride feel like an all out QUEEN.




 
X THAT WHOLE WEEKEND.


If you'd like to check out some of the things we did in detail, check out my blog board on Pinterest:


Follow Marvyl's board Weekend at Garys Bachelorette Party on Pinterest.





The Weight of the Issue

Guys, I have so many exciting things to write about.

I have the recap of the world's best bachelorette party. I have the most gorgeous invitations to tell you all about. I have so many exciting wedding details to update!

But I can't seem to get the words to flow, the paragraphs to match my enthusiasm for all the spectacular things happening, because over it all (prepare for over dramatic statement) my world seems to be crumbling down around me.

Yeah, it's going to be THAT kind of post.



So, if you're not feeling melodramatic today, go read something more cheerful like this post.


If you're ready to join me in the pity party...proceed!
 


This all began a few months ago, when for some reason my body decided that it was going to completely reject the medication I had been switched to and it started panicking.
 

This meant I became an emotional trainwreck, with paralyzing anxiety.


Now, generally I'm a hypochondriac but this time it was to the point where I was entirely sure I was going to die and couldn't even bring myself to make an appointment for the doctors because I knew that they would tell me I had merely weeks to live, and I would never see my wedding day or my kids holding one of those stupid chalk board first day of school things and I would never get to use all that damn money in my 401K and I would have been saving all of it for nothing.

So instead of calling, I spent my nights lying awake planning my bucket list and my super-awesome party-not funeral.

I've been suffering from depression the majority of my life, but I usually tend to keep the anxiety under control. This was a whole new level for me, and I had no idea how to cope with it.

I couldn't get out of bed, I couldn't sleep. I focused on things to the point that I was convinced I was a lunatic, and the best thing for everyone is if I just pulled an Irish goodbye and never came back. 

And, since I was dying, what did it matter?

When it got to the point of being a safety concern, Eric helped me get into the doctor's.

I didn't know what was going to be worse, finding out that it was something life threatening, or finding out it wasn't and confirming that I was, in fact, out of my mind.

We found out the issue was not going to kill me, and was easily treatable and as she delivered the news, my eyes filled up with tears and I looked over at Eric, fully expecting him to exit in this sort of fashion:
 

Like, ok BAI crazy lady. I'm not dealing with this anymore!

But of course, he's an angel, and he just seemed really excited that I wasn't going to die.



After my complete breakdown in the doctor's office, we decided we should probs deal with my little anxiety problem.
 


Just thought at this point you needed a cute puppy GIF. You're WELCOME.

Anyhow, so we changed my medicine and slowly I started feeling less like the world was ending.

But, lucky for me, that came with 14 pounds of weight.

Yeah. FOURTEEN. POUNDS.

If nothing else in this world, I've been blessed with Eric, great friends, and the luxury of a fast metabolism shared between me and my brother.

Once in high school I gained a bunch of weight, but it went right back off and I've been lucky to remain approximately the same size for the past eight years or so.

Until I guess, I decided to get married and the universe thought, "HEY! THIS WOULD BE A GREAT TIME FOR YOU TO GAIN A BUNCH OF WEIGHT AND LOSE ALL YOUR SELF CONFIDENCE!"
 

So after realizing I now couldn't fit into my wedding dresses or any of my clothes, my confidence had never been lower.

 

All of this was a great starting point for the worst month of bad news.

I started a new job, Eric lost his job and then got hired on in Nashville (he's moving away), a close family member found out they had cancer, and my mom had a relapse.


It's a whole lot of crappy news in a short amount of time.



Every day is a constant effort to convince myself that it's worth moving forward. To get up, and face whatever ridiculous things the world has in store that day.

And sometimes it feels overwhelming to try and explain how I'm feeling because everyone is going through something difficult, and at times it seems completely selfish to bring your problems up when in the grand scheme of things they really aren't that bad.

The past month has been an exercise in perspective. And a reminder of what I have always said...I've seen worse days, I've seen better.

There will always be bad days. There will be bad months, and bad years, and sometimes it will seem like your whole life is one big joke being played on you.

But there will be so, so many good days. Days where your friends ride around Nashville with you and you feel like a queen and days when your fiance makes you laugh so hard you cry and you're just sitting at home binge watching Netflix.

Those good days are so worth these bad ones. And so I guess this whole thing is to point out that the good days weigh so much more than the bad ones, in the end.

 





Thanks for everyone who has supported me over the past few months during this craziness. Much love, always.