See, this is what I don’t understand about the concept of waiting for some “special” event such as a bachelorette party to engage in debauchery. Especially in your thirties. In your early twents, maaaaaaybe. You still have that new-at-adulthood flavor about you. If you were a wine, you’d probably be described as a smoky bouquet of student loans and Plan B pill residue that incorporates Cool Whip overtones and then finishes with notes of still being on a T-Mobile Friends & Family plan with your parental units.
