ignore the fact that we are having way too much fun and probably deserve to be thrown out of the restaurant.

3 nights in bachelorette party mode = detox for an undetermined period of time

plus 1 additional night in atlanta/molly/callie mode = i may not make it out of here alive

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10 of us were coming in from various locations at various times to kick off kristen’s pre-bridal weekend. at almost midnight on thursday, one half of the charleston crowd pulled into the driveway of corbin’s lake house in north georgia.

with enough booze to keep an entire frat house in the bag for about a week or so.

fast forward 15 hours: most of said booze was gone and the patio table umbrella was on the roof of the house.

but not to worry. we still had plenty of male-reproductive-organ straws to go around.

i mean, let’s be honest here. who doesn’t want this lodged in the neck of their corona bottle?

we feted. way too hard and way too long (like we know how to do it any other way). it was so close to college that i almost forgot i ever graduated. on the weekend responsibility list: ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.

oh yeah, and we have tan lines. TAN LINES, PEOPLE. which can only mean one thing. winter is about to get herself drop-kicked to the curb and the days of overdosing on vitamin D are marching in like a drum line with their pants on fire.

a couple of these classy babes are now my new friends. and i am super stoked about that because they rock my world and bring a whole new meaning to fun-in-the-sun and would-you-like-me-to-haze-you-now-or-later-or-both.

no trip back to the homeland could be complete without a total stranger reminding me how seemingly far way from my roots i may sometimes be.

total stranger on airplane: “so why are you on this flight to atlanta?”

marcy: “i’m going to visit some friends.”

total stranger on airplane: “i figured you were just visiting . . . you don’t sound like you’re from there.”

marcy: “but i lived in georgia for 4 years. and in north carolina for 18 years before that. ”

total stranger on airplane: “oh.”

marcy’s inner dialogue: “DAMMIT, I KNOW!! IT HAS NOT ESCAPED ME THAT I’VE LOST THE CUTE AND CHARMING SOUTHERN ACCENT. THANKS FOR REMINDING ME!!!!!!!!!! and now i hate you, so excuse me while i open this magazine and pretend you don’t exist for the next 2 hours.”

i need rosetta stone for southerners before one more person tells me they would have guessed i was from connecticut. which i’ve only ever been to like 2 times in my life.

do they make that??

the accent (which has apparently all but left me, with the exception of “y’all” and a couple of other variations on words which are a dead giveaway to my upbringing) only comes out in its truest form when i’m overserved or underslept. and definitely when i am both.

then i sound like i might live on a farm and raise goats.

which would be totally awesome.