You know it's a significant moment when you grow up with a bunch of girls, and one day, one of the girls wanted to get married. That marks a significant milestone; 'Welcome to the Adult World, Finally'. One day we're all in our Saturday night best having drinks at a nice place, and the next thing you know we'll be sitting in circles on a floor of someone's house, taking turns breastfeeding. And a few kids will be running around pulling ornaments off the table. That's the way life goes, folks.
So we threw a bachelorette/hen party for the bride-to-be. It was done at Fatt's weekend house by the riverfront, and we had it themed 'red and black' with a cake in a shape of a woman's bosoms, although don't ask me where they got the measurements - It made Pamela Andrson's boobs look like teacups. We had a dinner party, which was then followed by dancing and games (truth or dare, but mostly dare. Well what else should you play in a hen's night, right?). I wouldn't go so far on the details of the dare, but let's just say it went pretty crazy, but not too crazy. And the dancing? Oih dear Lord. Note to self and the others: The 70s dance moves went extinct for a reson.
It was all fun, but there were some good moments too. By the end of the dinner we made a round of toasts to the bride-to-be, some funny, some tear-jerking, but the bride-to-be's speech was especially endearing to me. She talked about how she hoped things will be the same even after she's married with a family, and how we should still be as close even when all of us would be wives and mothers soon. Everybody around the table shook their heads in agreement, but I felt like we were also in a way, denying the truth - it's never going to be the same as we grow older. It's a sad fact, and I think everyone there knew it too.
Anyway, on a happier note, what is a bachelorette party without music, some undecent games, awful embarassing truths, drinks, and excessive sugar and cheese? The party ended at almost 4 a.m, and needless to say when I woke up that morning my head was spinning. But hey, you know what they say. It isn't a party unless you wake to find the house looking like the French just bombed it.
Us at the dinner party table. Menu - pasta, more pasta, cheesy vegetables.
Messing around with the camera the whole night.
The grill in the background.
Nothing says college like a party.
My friend Zaza held a post-Eid Day/College Reunion party at her house. She invited old college friends and old school friends (in which explains me being there). It was a simple BBQ party, with of course, two grills, chicken wings and lamb, roasted peppers, salads, fried rice and noodles, and of course, unlimited punch.
Some of the faces were pretty familiar, because in 2008 I visited Hana and Zaza in Canberra, Australia and they introduced me to most of their collage gangs. Mimi was there as well, so I wasn’t the only hey-you’re-not-from-ANU-why-are-you-here girl. After the party ended of course there was the after-after party. It was Zaza’s birthday so we bought a big fat cake, sat around the living room eating cakes with forks, and did what college students always do – talk about nothing.
Well, not exactly nothing. I can definitely remember a topic about ‘why do boys relate EVERYTHING to porn?’ and an extensive discussion on how English is so terrible in China they had humungous signboards that say stuff like ‘NOKIA – Connocting Poopie’. Awesome dish, that is.
It’s good sometimes to step out from the role of a 23 year-old working girl with a 9 to 5 job, back into the shoes of a college girl who spends her weekend restaurant-crawling and attending gatherings and discussing mindless things. So when you get back to work on Monday, you feel happier that you at least relived those awesome-est moments of your life.