How fast time flies...

So this weekend was my hen weekend, which had crept up on me incredibly quickly. Spearheaded by Lucy, my girlies had been plotting for some time and all I knew was that I was to keep this weekend free.

On Friday night I arrived at my sisters to get ready, clutching a bag overflowing with a variety of outfits (well if I didn’t know where we were going I should buy an outfit for every occasion – it seemed logical.) As we were getting ready Lu and Abby handed me gifts every now and then; a pink and sparkly disposable camera (HA no digital evidence of shame I thought, how naïve…) a flashing Bride-to-be badge, a tiara and veil and a wand with Bride in pink sparkly lettering. For the first time since all the planning and preparation began I suddenly actually felt like a real person about to get married, not just like I am planning for an event for either way into the future or for someone else.

We headed to a nearby town to meet some girls for drinks, and the plan was to continue on to a nightclub to dance the night away. Hen nights are supposed to be kept between the ladies so no I shall not be sharing all the details. I had an awesome evening but without going into too much detail I learned two very valuable lessons; 1) since my transplant I have not learned how to take my drink. 2) Shots still make me rather ill and 3) The toilets are not in fact located in the pub kitchen.

Saturday morning I woke up in a surprisingly bouncy mood, and we headed down for breakfast and cups of tea, at which point Lu let slip again that we were heading for a salsa lesson that night! We lounged around in our PJs, before I headed home for a quick shower to feel somewhat more human. On arriving back at my parents’ our “plastic cousin” (so called because she’s practically a cousin; we grew up together) arrived and we all sat down to watch some rather embarrassing videos of us cavorting around aged five in big frilly dresses (hers had more pink bows on than mine, I remember being very jealous). We started getting ready and set off on the train up to London (veil firmly on head again).

Our instructor was great fun, and we took it in turns spinning/gliding/stumbling round the room with him. After a fairly exhausting lesson we sat down for much needed tapas and more jugs of sangria and pina coladas (most of my drinks sans alcohol feeling still a tad queasy from the night before). At this point I shall go a little fuzzy on the details again suffice to say several dares including dancing on the bar and serenading some poor bewildered soul on my knees were carried out throughout the rest of the evening. We continued chatting and dancing till it was time to get the train home, and talked loudly all the way back.

This morning my father excelled himself when he cooked a spectacular breakfast for 15 hungry and somewhat hung-over women, who all wedged into our dining room and munched away, silent for the first time all weekend. More embarrassing photos and videos were produced (thanks girls) and tea and pain au chocolat with lots of reminiscing of school days finished the weekend off. I am now back home pretty tired but with a huge grin on my face; a spectacular weekend thanks to the most amazing girls. I dread to think of the various photos that are going to appear and think I may have to run away and change my name if my girls aren’t kind to me and delete the most dreadful ones. Most of their parting shots were “see you at the wedding!” which was a tad scary; really not long to go now...