Hen Night Eve

So readers as usual its been a while. I make the same excuses. Busy, but well; I have no idea why its been a while but here I am.

Tomorrow is my first hen night. Yes you read that right I am having three. I didn't insist on three its just worked out that way, particularly as I have friends all over. I am lucky to have  friends who are very kindly preparing secretly a evening, day or weekend of wonderment.

Hen night number one is in Jersey. Six years living in Jersey and I have made enough dear, fabulous, close friends to warrant its very own hen night. For that I am lucky. The ever beautiful "My Rachael" is chief hen working away organising. She knows me well.Planned is champagne, my most favourite little place Relish and of course cocktails in a gin room. The theme, vintage 50's.

Time for swing, wiggle and rockabilly girlies in all their glamour.
To distinguish I am the bride to be, a birdcage veil for me. The discussion was had about sashes and L plates and I wasn't too keen. Contrary to what you know of me, on this occasion I am nervous about being the centre of attention. more of that later.

In preparation I went for a facial and decided to opt for one that infuses your face with oxygen. Yes I hear you, what a load of bollocks! It was like someone blowing raspberries on me. Apparently its 100% oxygen so it has to be good, right? When it had finished, she closed the experience with " you look so much plumper",  I know I scowled. Last time  someone  said that to me was the 60 a day Benson's and Hedges fat club leader, She also said your not bonny your fat in addition to the plumpness comment. Well let me tell you missus, I might be a little rounder, I can do something about that but last time I looked you couldn't get a charisma transplant on the NHS.
So the young therapist blew 100% oxygen via a raspberry blowing system and commentated throughout, the percentage I was receiving. As I am a geek, constantly running through my head was " you only get 16% oxygen from mouth to mouth".

So back to the matter in hand, hen night. I am excited and a little nervous. I am getting married and a hen night means yep I am getting married. Its real! That makes me nervous. Not in what am I doing way but oh lordy its happening!

So I am sure their will be pictures of  magical merriment and glamour; of course there will. The girlies are just adorable.

Hopefully they will not feature the penis. Although my pal the McConk has identified a penis with a lily sprouting from the urethra for table decorations. She said she made the effort because she knows I am sophisticated and demure ( I am sure she is teasing....slight panic sets in).

Demure! I hear my pal  Jenny Piccolo shriek. Shhh.. she can report that on my Manchester hen.... hen number two.