Saturday morning was marked by a pajama-clad trip to Walgreen's so C-List could get some Visine ("The desert makes my eyes red, and it's totally misleading: I'm a pill-popper, not a stoner!"). Then we hit the breakfast line, where eggs were being cooked-to-order - unless you're me and wanted them poached.
When we got to our table in the hotel dining commons, some of the girls had already decorated it with caution tape ("Caution: Bachelorette Party! Danger: Wild Women!") and balloons featuring a drawing of a short-but-muscular guy in a g-string. We had mimosas (only some were with cranberry or apple juice). Pigeon insisted on drinking hers through her glow-in-the-dark penis straw; we were all impressed with her juicy balls. Anabella's balloon popped at the end of the meal, which made for good jokes about her man being all flacid.
We split up then: half of us wanted to go and get real spa pedicures (and oh, they were - complete with saran-wrapped calves!), and half wanted to save their money and just work on their tans by the pool. I went to the spa, and ended up getting pedicures next to Anabella, who admitted she always chooses hot pink polish. I admitted to almost always choosing orange, so we decided to pick the color we'd usually get for ourselves and then swap. It worked out pretty well for both of us.
Sunshine came and found us after her manicure appointment, and the three of us went to get coffee for ourselves and Dawn, who had arrived separately and later, and was still upstairs getting her toenails massacred by some white woman. I had my first blended coffee drink in probably upwards of two years, but I figured I'd need it to stay up past my usual bedtime of like 10:00, and with a little preventative Imodium, I wasn't too worried about the effects on my stomach.
Back at the hotel, I joined the girls who had been lounging poolside just as they were going back up to the rooms - but not before Amanda had chucked the frat boys' beachball into the bushes after they kept mis-aiming and nearly hitting her in the head with it. She stayed to lay out with me for like 45 minutes, and then we stood in the pool and talked about wedding plans, briefly, and for pretty much the only time all weekend.
Then we headed up to the rooms to shower and get dolled up for the big night ahead. Suzy & Sunshine kept commenting on things like my bra showing through my wifebeater (which read, "Something Blue on the Rocks" - all our shirts boasted our creative margarita orders), so I kept having to run down to the other room to ask the girls without a sense of propriety whether I looked ok. I did, of course. With my veil secured, we met in the downstairs room - an executive suite, complete with conference table - to tell embarrassing stories about me (C-List told the most, and the best ones, despite not having known me very long compared to the other girls) and go over the rules for the scavenger hunt that Monica had prepared. And then, after a minor emotional blip when Sunshine realized that the last time she'd been to Palm Springs had been with her mom, we were on our way.
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