Friday night, we had a "pseudo-bachelorette party" for Michelle. (She's getting married on the 31st if they can get a copy of Tony's birth certificate in time. That's when the party is, regardless.) None of us were really enthusiastic about more traditional bachelorette party pursuits, and Michelle'd been adamantly against a shower, so we ended up doing a Chycks* in Search of Dessert party instead. There were six of us, and we went to Sweetwater Café downtown. Michelle had warned us that they only take cash there, so we were all prepared for that. She made the required token protest as we paid for her dessert but didn't fight too hard.
*I use the word "chycks" mainly as an in-joke that not too many people in my social group get anymore. A few years back, a guy who was one of our friends kept joking about spelling "chicks" with a y (He claims he wanted to see if he could start something). A few of the women who knew him (including me and LunarGeography) started getting together for an occasional women only evening, and we started calling it "chycking" as a sort of joke. It stuck, and now I'm in the habit.
After we ate, we sat around for a while. Eventually, someone pointed out that discussing bras and honeymoons in public might not be in the best of taste (I personally think that the real reason we left was the chairs. They were tiny and hard and pretty much designed to discourage lingering), so we came back to my place. Scott and Tony, Michelle's fiance, had wisely gone off to see Spiderman, so we knew we wouldn't have to worry about them. LunarGeography broke out a bottle of strawberry wine (which smelled better than it tasted, in my opinion), and we watched Michelle open her presents. LunarGeography gave her a Hello Kitty vibrator that we all agreed was profoundly disturbing, and Jeannette brought a cake. Her family has a friend who does novelty cakes, and this one was a naked male torso with genitalia. Its existence was cause for much amusement, but none of us were up to more sugar that night.
I did a couple of tarot readings and gave people an opportunity to look over most of my collection of decks (I missed one accidentally because I hadn't yet put it away properly after the last time I used it). Dorothy was fascinated by a couple of the decks; she's apparently very visually oriented, which I suppose shouldn't surprise me. Michelle's reading came up filled with major arcana (seven out of fourteen cards!) and didn't make all that much sense. Of course, she's generally more interested in not having it make sense than in playing along. She knows I don't take it all that seriously, at least not when the person I'm reading for doesn't (I take it extremely seriously when the person I'm reading for does because it's not fair to them to do otherwise), but she still feels obligated to be a voice of reason.
LunarGeography had brought a bit of anime that she said she thought was at the right bachelorette party level of tastelessness. It was about a talking hamster who does housework. That sounds very harmless. It's not. Very, very not. Ebichu (the hamster) gets hit a lot, and there's a good bit of unappealing (intentionally mocked) sex.
Scott and Tony returned while we were watching Ebichu, and Scott retreated immediately to the bathroom while Tony watched the video, commented on the presents (including trying out the vibrator as a neck massager!) and was quite thoroughly himself. He asked LunarGeography to lend him the video, but Michelle vetoed it. The two ladies suggested that he could get together with LunarGeography's husband some time to watch it while the ladies went and did something else. For some reason, that seemed to remove half the fun from his point of view.
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