Luckily, I had the foresight to take notes yesterday since I was guessing – and rightly so – that I’d wake up this morning brain-dead. And I am. I’m happy I can still type. My head hurts (although not out-and-out pounding like yesterday.) So where am I and how did I get here?
Well, after I posted the blog (take 2) yesterday morning, I went to the Nashville airport. Thank goodness for Aidan! And I think whoever was watching over me the night before was still with me in the morning because as I was driving and my head kept pounding, I was zoning out, having to force myself to pay attention to both Aidan and the road – it wasn’t easy! Just glad the airport was only 10 minutes from the hotel. I did have to grin, though, when I got in the car and Kenny Chesney’s Out Last Night was just starting. Can’t think of a more perfect song to describe our evening!
I’m sure I’m telling you something you already know, but everything is so much louder and more difficult when you’re hung over. I just don’t drink much – virtually at all pre-London so I seem to forget the hang over feeling. The problem is I was flying to New York City to meet other London girlfriends for a party weekend. I wasn’t sure I could take it. But for my dear friends…
Tamara, from my London book/wine club, is getting married – woo hoo! (Well, kinda – they are actually already legally married, but now are going to do it in front of family and close friends, wedding dress and all.) So she and Kris (hubby) are having a pre-wedding weekend of festivities with friends in the city. I’m bunking with Jamie, thanks to Steve, her husband, not being able to come. Both thank you and sorry, Steve! (It’s the nicest hotel I’ve stayed in yet – and no bed bugs, Gram!) It began last night – we all met at the Beirgarten at The Standard Hotel, then split into guys and girls.
Coating our stomachs was a must, so we went to have tapas (and lots and lots of sangria) at what is supposedly the first Spanish restaurant in the city. Everything was delicious – and there was way more food than the 15 of us could eat. They even had some interesting shaped food that Tamara made the most of. (You’ll know what I mean when you look at the pictures above…) This was Tamara’s third bachelorette party (I’ll never forget our London Dolly Parton night – still have the blonde wig) so we didn’t torture her too much.
From there we went to our reserved section of The Brass Monkey. Funny thing was that there were girls sitting in our area when we got there and as we kicked them out I invited them to join us to celebrate Tamara’s wedding and one of them was also getting married. She had just bought her reception dress and showed us – beautiful! Instant girl bonding at its best.
The Brass Monkey really was a meat market in the Meat Packing District. The music was pounding (and funny enough, while I was drinking my head wasn’t), the drinks were flowing and the men were moving in for the kill. Couldn’t seem to get rid of this Australian and this other mumbling guy. No matter what was said to deter them – even one of Tamara’s friends looking them in the face and saying “No. Go away.” Mostly there was the younger crowd – seemed most of the guys who ended up at our table were in their early 20s. (Uh, no – my son is practically your age!) So we used them to take pictures of us and then went back to our drinking and dancing. And then our feet started crying (the dogs are barking, one of the girls said), so we knew it was time to go…
Amy's America 