You may now kiss the Best Man

I know that everyone says this, and no one really believes them, but I'm actually having fun being single- and I haven't even moved to London yet. It's only going to get better!

Yes, I know I've shed a few tears over my now single status, but the next time I feel the need to do so, I need to remember weeks like this one, to remind me how fun it can be.

On Sunday, I went to the wedding of not just one, but two of my very good friends. It was a lovely wedding, and I teared up a little bit, which I've never done at a wedding before, but then again, I've never known both the bride and the groom equally well before. I knew them both before they were a couple. I was so happy for both of them.

The wedding was easily the best I've ever been to. I saw lots of people I hadn't seen before, some unexpected, and there was lots and lots of dancing. As it turns out, I knew the Best Man. He played on my intramural softball team in college. It's been years, which led to a bit of an embarrassing situation when I first walked in. He was talking to my friend, The Other Violet when I walked over to them before the ceremony. "Hey Violet, it's great to see you again!," he said. I knew he looked familiar, but I couldn't place him, but still tried to hide my confusion with an enthusiastic hello and handshake. I couldn't fool him, though, and he quickly reintroduced himself, and I knew who he was immediately. I was a bit embarrassed, but I didn't even realize he and the groom were even friends, let enough best man-worthy friends since childhood, so I wasn't expecting to see him there. He had the benefit of the groom telling him I would be there, and my name was in the program, (I read a prayer; kind of a big deal and all), and I hadn't had a chance to look at the program yet.

During the reception, there was lots of wine and dancing and flirting with the Best Man. After the reception, we all congregated in a room at the hotel for an after-party, during which the Best Man suggested we go "get some air," so we went outside and sat next to the pool, chatting for a few hours. Until it started raining, at which point we had to go inside. There wasn't really anywhere we could go inside. He was sharing a room with two friends, as was I. All presumably passed out in bed. So, he walked me to my door and kissed me goodnight. Sorry I don't have a more salacious story of a drunken hook-up, but it was a very gentlemanly thing to do, no?

In the morning, I had to hit the road immediately for mine and Grayer's trip to The Great Outdoors. It just so happened that a tropical storm was working its way north as we left. The trip was about six and a half hours. It rained the entire time. Camping and hurricanes don't generally go well together. By the time we got there, we figured we had better upgrade to a cabin or something, or risk waking up in 3 inches of muddy water. Luckily, we were staying at an outdoorsy version of Disneyland, and they had plenty of "cabin tents" available for us. They were large army tents, already set up on a raised platform, covered by a tarp, and included two beds. Excellent.

Despite the upgrade, I couldn't sleep all night. First of all, it rained hard. Really, really hard, and the rain was really loud on the tarp roof. But I also couldn't sleep because I kept thinking of all the things that could possibly go wrong. The road could wash out and strand us here, a mud slide or flash flood could sweep us away, some murdering rapist could come to our cabin tent and there isn't anyone close enough to hear us screaming over the rain. I think I kept waiting to hear dueling banjos, like in that movie I've never seen because I know it will scare the shit out of me.

It was still raining in the morning when we set out for white-water rafting. It turns out that a hurricane creates ideal conditions for rafting. The water level goes way up, making the river faster, the waves bigger, and a lot more fun. We were in a boat with 4 guys, 3 of them funny, and one of them very awkward. He said things like, "Here's a fun fact for everyone in the boat" and "I love beavers." But the other guys and our awesome guide made up for the awkwardness, and when our guide yelled at us to paddle "Faster! Harder! Faster! Harder!" they all yelled, "I'm so close! Almost there!" right back at her.

Our guide wasn't a hot bearded man, she was definitely a woman, but it didn't matter. She was awesome. And the guide of the other boat did happen to be a hot bearded man (the beard definitely seems to be a requirement of all rafting guides), and we hung out with him later that evening in the pub. He really wished we had been in his boat, but instead he was stuck with a seriously lame group made up of members of a 50-somethings, single adventurers club. He told us stories about how lame they were, and we told him stories of how awesome our boat was, and then beat him at ping pong. Sadly, along with the beard, heavy smoking is also apparently a requirement of rafting guides, and that really cuts down on the appeal. It was still fun to flirt with him, though, and he did tell us to please come back and request to be in his boat.

It's been a pretty good week for this single lady. And by this time next week, I'll be in London, and it will only get better. Stay tuned, this fall is going to be a doozy.

Cake eater

The good news is, it's over.  8-year-Lisa is officially married and currently on her honeymoon (but has been on Facebook an alarming amount of time).  The wedding was lovely, the weather was perfect, the bride was radiant, the eye-makeup was gorgeous, and the groom's brother was hot (yowza!).   Something that didn't look great, however, was the cake.

The cake arrived shortly after my date and I did.  It did not look good (though we later found that it was delicious).  A friend of a friend had made it, and it was obviously homemade.  You could see streaks of the underlying chocolate cake, there were cracks between the layers, and the hand-painted edible pansies were some of the saddest things I've ever seen.  The bride was not happy (though surprisingly calm).  My date and I suggested a fix, to add real flowers.  She trusted me to get it done right so as I started stealing flowers from centerpieces, my date started cutting them.  And then we went to work.  We kept the pansies for filler and structural support, while adding real flowers to cover them up as much as possible.  It was really fun.  I love having to being creative under pressure! We now believe that as a team, we would make great cake decorators (minus the whole icing thing).  My date said things like "Put this pink one here and it will really pop against this purple."  Needless to say, comments like this didn't really convince me he was straight.  Nor did our very long conversation about Glee on our way there.

The wedding was fun but it wasn't a wild party.  The family started stacking up chairs within a few hours, so we were back to Boston by dinner.  We were absolutely exhausted after getting up so early, so we had dinner, watched a movie, and went to bed by 10.  That's when things got weird.  My wedding date was...on me all night.  Not on me, but....up against me all night.  I'm not saying he tried anything, but I have a big bed.  Violet slept in it with me for a week without ever touching me (except that one time when I hit her in the face) yet this guy couldn't seem to do anything but crowd me.   I was exhausted but I couldn't sleep.  I could feel him breathing on my neck.   In the morning, he was giving me crap for being a bed hog.  Me!?  Then he said how well he slept and how comfortable my bed is, all while playing with my hair.  What the fuck is going on?!

Much of this continued for the rest of a lazy Sunday.  We read in the park, we napped, we watched a movie all while continuing this weird closeness.  It wasn't sexual, it was just cozy.  Maybe he was just craving some human interaction?  I don't know.  But it was weird.  Little brother characters aren't supposed to be so touchy.  

The wedding date

Do you ever have one of those days when you have a day off so you get your haircut and the blow out that follows gives you shiny bouncy hair that is only seen on tv?  Then you practice makeup for your upcoming wedding that gives you the overall "I never look this good!/why don't I always wear makeup and hair product?" feeling so you therefore have to leave the house to be seen?  Yeah, me too.  That's why I'm at Starbucks.  I'm glad I have an iced drink and a Macbook to fit it.  People are probably being distracted by my shiny bouncy hair.  I should stop tossing it around as if I'm in a hair color commercial/having an aneurysm.

To answer your question, yes I do have an actual reason for posting today.  And to answer your other question, yes I have considered taking a picture of myself for my next online dating profile.

Tomorrow is the big day, 8 year Lisa is gettin' hitched!  It seems like it was only 10 years ago when those two lovebirds met.  Some kids really do move fast.  It was only 8 months ago when they got engaged with the most unromantic non-proposal I've ever heard. I'm a bridesmaid tomorrow, but more importantly, I am the makeup artist (which is why I need to practice).  Yeah, I'm kind of a big deal.  Such a big deal that I should be there now, doing bridesmaid duties and picking which of his brothers I want to walk me back up the aisle (the cute one, obvi).  But I'm not.  Mostly because of the drama that is my wedding date.  No, I take that back, mostly due to the Crazy that is her entire family.

My wedding date is one of the coolest kids I know.  He's a former student/undergraduate from my grad school days.  The kid looks up to me (figuratively).  I haven't seen him in a year but when he happened to call me as Lisa and I discussed my date options, he seemed like the obvious choice (Especially since Lisa knows and loves him as well).  His exact response was "I do make a fabulous plus one.  What are you wearing? I'll go to Kohl's."  See? Don't you love this guy already?!  Like many, I don't think the kid is straight.  He claims this is because he wears sweaters and has skinny arms.  That may be true.  I'd also add the whole only-friends-with-so-many-girls thing, not to mention the constantly-singing-show-tunes thing.  (He always used to sing "Oh my God, oh my God, you guys" which I much later learned was a verse from Legally Blonde: the Musical...What straight man would sing that?).   I don't care about his sexual preference, all I know is he is my date of choice and definitely not because I'm going to get lucky, he's like a little brother! (Last year he did stay at my place.  As we got into bed he told me he was strictly a little spoon.  He then preceded to ask me my thoughts on Justin Bieber as we drifted off to sleep.  When I didn't have thoughts on the Biebs, he told me I sucked at pillow talk.  We haven't slept together since. And by slept, I do mean sleep).

Let me say, as a bridesmaid, I believe I deserve a date.  Just because I don't have a boyfriend doesn't mean I don't need someone to dance with, or more importantly, someone to hold my clutch while I pee.  Lisa seemed to think this too, until she got around to the guest list, then she just got weird.  I thought it odd when the invitation arrived with both of our names on it.  Seemed a bit much for just a friend.  I thought it really odd when on the inside information sheet it said "We can only accomodate the guest addressed on your invitation."  What they were saying was, you can take this dude but you can't take anyone else.  Umm...what the fuck?  It's one thing if he were my boyfriend and they don't want me bring a random friend instead.  It's another thing when he's a random friend and I can't take anyone else.  What if he bails?  Who will hold my clutch while I pee?  Alright weirdos, I'll let this one go but I think you are all crazies.

This wedding is on Lisa's grandparents farm in the middle of nowhere. So in the middle of nowhere that there's only little Bed & Breakfasts within an hour.  Being a bridesmaid and therefore a big deal, Lisa invited me to stay at "camp" with her the night before.  Awesome, can my date stay there (I have to ask these things because she seems hell-bent on ignoring his existence)?  No, her mother would be uncomfortable with that.  Even with him setting up a tent out in the yard and sleeping alone.  Uncomfortable, she says.  Ummm...what the fuck?  Ok, crazies.

Months ago, Lisa promised her friends they can camp the night of the wedding in the field at her grandparents farm.  It'd be a fun after party and no one will have to worry about driving anywhere.  Since this was an option for Saturday night, and my date was not permitted to be near the family, I asked if my date and I could just camp out in the field the night before.  No, her dad doesn't want anyone in the field.  At all.  Two days before the wedding, her dad (who doesn't even own the farm) decides that no one can stay in the field at all.  What does he think we're going to do out there?  Have a giant orgy?! Does he think it will be the site of the next Woodstock?! You need more than two people for that, weirdo.

The Lisa family, if admitting his existence, appears to be putting a restraining order on my date.  Don't they know that not only do I rely on him for a good time, but I also need him to keep me away from Lisa's older brother (who I may have accidentally made out with once while he was dating his ex-girlfriend)?  No, I suppose they wouldn't know that.  Her family was effective in one thing, and that's keeping me from the wedding activities.  I am now missing the making of the bouquets as well as the rehearsal.  I feel terrible about this but Lisa assures me she doesn't mind and they'll fill me in in the morning.  Let's hope she actually doesn't mind, and won't just be mad about it later.  Don't blame me, blame your wacko parents.

And the Oscar goes to...

...Me. For the Best. Maid. Of. Honour. Speech. EVER.

OK, maybe it wasn't the best ever, but it was pretty damn good. I didn't stumble over my words, I thought of jokes on the spot which were pretty funny, I made fun of the groom for mispronouncing my name (my name confuses British people)and right at the end I started to choke up. Not crocodile tears but actual, genuine emotion. I didn't see this coming but it totally made the speech. People were putty in my hands. The Best Man looked shell shocked - how was he going to follow real tears? He followed it with an inflatable speech, but that's another story.

The best thing? The wedding was fun! And enjoyable! And with ZERO drama. In short, I had an amazing time.

I'm just really glad it's over.

Raise your glass

I am still alive. Honest. I realise that it has been some time since I've blogged, I really don't know what happened. Of course, there was the Best. Surprise. EVER. It really was. Then there was the Worst. Week. Back. At. Work. EVER. That was pretty fun too.

But to be honest, there's not many exciting things happening in my life right now. My life has become somewhat non-blogable. (It's a word).

However, lest we forget, THE WEDDING is fast approaching. In fact, it will take place in one week and two days. I really don't know how it came about so quickly. I am mostly prepared - thanks to the internet and online shopping. But there is one thing I am struggling with a little bit.

My Maid of Honour speech.

When Elsa first suggested it I did think it was going to be a piece of cake. I'm not saying I'm the world's greatest public speaker or anything but public speaking and thinking of things to say in (the few) speeches I've given has never really bothered me. I wrote my manager's leaving speech in about 10 minutes and people complemented me on it. This may make me sound conceited but I am well aware of the things in life I'm not good at. And there's quite a few. So I think it's nice to sometimes acknowledge the things I'm half decent at.

Except I'm suffering from writer's block. And I've never been a Maid of Honour before. And I don't know anyone who has does a Maid of Honour speech before. I turned to google but quickly turned off when I found one website on 'how to write the perfect Maid of Honour speech' which was peppered with exclamation marks and chirply informed me to adapt the 3P's strategy:

1. Plan
2. Personalise
3. Practice

I was also told that I want to ensure that my speech is one of the memorable Maid of Honour speeches. No pressure then.

I think I've decided to go down the 'awwwww' route rather than the funny route. That's the job of the Best Man. But I am struggling so any suggestions, jokes or sure fire 'awwwwww' crowd pleasers - answers on a postcard please.

Bride Wars

My posts do seem to be taking on a wedding theme recently. Sorry about that but it continues..

Firstly, I have some historical news. Last night I was round the White Horse's and...I was allowed to watch a chick-flick. I know. Stop the press. I do realise that of all the chick flicks I could have chosen, Bride Wars isn't the greatest but I was going to take what I could get. It happened to be on. The White Horse and his roommate weren't in the room so I decided to take a risk and not change the channel. It worked. It was amazing.

Of course the subject matter is all about brides and weddings which leads me nicely on to my topic du jour: weddings.

I'm sure you're all wondering how things are between me and Elsa after the Hen Weekend from Hell. They're OK. I was still pretty pissed on the Monday. Matters weren't helped by the fact that Rae was texting me adding fuel to the fire. I was angry. All of a sudden my phone rings (I'm at work) from a flower delivery company asking why I wasn't at home to collect my flowers. Well I'm sorry, I wasn't aware I was getting any flowers delivered. I was excited. Immediately I emailed TWH. They weren't from him. Oops. I jokingly text Rae to find out if she thought Elsa may have sent them. She replied basically asking if hell had frozen over. Huh. I arranged to have the flowers re-delivered on Tuesday morning and pondered over who had sent them to me.

That night I get a text from Elsa. She apologised somewhat for her behaviour over the weekend and thanked me for making the weekend fun for her friends. That was nice. But I would've preferred her to pick up the phone or come round to see me, but beggers can't be chosers. I replied asking if she was the one that sent me the flowers. She was. Sweet. But here's the thing, she didn't send Rae any flowers. I got them as did the other two bridesmaids but according to Elsa, Rae didn't deserve any flowers. Huh. This put me in an awkward situation. Rae knew that I had been sent flowers. I said that TWH hadn't sent them. Rae wasn't going to get any flowers. The drama. I told Elsa that if Rae asked I was going to say that TWH sent them but wanted it to be a surprise (he loved how he got credit for doing nothing!) She wasn't happy about that but by then I was past caring. I'm done with the drama.

Moving on, Elsa and I are OK. We went out on Friday with our respective guys and we had fun. The hen weekend wasn't mentioned. My next dilemma is an email that Elsa sent all the bridesmaids today. No one has replied. I think they're all still pissed at her. Do I reply first thus not showing my allegiance to the other bridesmaids? I decided to text Elsa to say I got the email. I feel less pressure now. Whew.

But oh no ladies, the wedding talk isn't done yet! The Monday after the hen weekend my friend from work who has recently got engaged asked to speak to me. I figured it was to ask me ever so nicely to shut up about talking about the horrible hen weekend as I was probably giving her nightmares about hers. But oh no, I have been asked to be an 'honorary bridesmaid'.

What is an honorary bridesmaid I hear you ask? Basically, my friend needs to have her female family members as bridesmaids (it's a family thing). She's not too happy about that but she realises that it's not worth the fight with her parents. However, she wanted her friends to be her bridesmaids. So she's decided to have four of her friends (yours truly included) as honorary bridesmaids where we get to do all the fun bridesmaids stuff but just not stand at the front during the ceremony. I can deal with that. And with her I am confident that there will be no bridezilla antics.

I just can't understand why the producers of Bridesmaids didn't give me a call.

Here Come the Hens!

This weekend is The Hen Weekend. I'm feeling a bit of trepidation about it. I am excited about it, really I am. Honest. It's just very nerve wracking because I helped to organise it. So if something goes wrong, tears are shed, the bride to be goes off with a guy she shouldn't (she wouldn't would she?) then I will feel responsible / might receive the blame. This is a lot of pressure people.

Also, can I just forewarn all females the perils of planning a hen weekend. Tread carefully. My issues have been:

1. Trying to remain 100% excited when around the bride and talking about the hen weekend. Whilst it's important to me it's not the most important thing in my life happening at this moment in time. I understand for her the hen weekend (and wedding) is.

2. It's not very pleasant to ask a number of girls who you don't know for £200. And then when they don't pay you on time having to chase them for the money.

3. Getting on with the other bridesmaids. My friend has four bridesmaids. Myself and Rae are friends already. The other two bridesmaids are friend's of Elsa's from school. So it's a little bit two against two. Problem is, Rae lives in Scotland so hasn't been involved in the planning. Cue me feeling like the third wheel. I got annoyed when the two of them used our planning emails to email about the holiday they're going on. And even more annoyed when one of them treated me like her secretary.

4. The bride to be doesn't know what's happening during the weekend. She is not a patient person. I've struggled to remain chipper when she sends texts / updates her Facebook status wondering what's going on. A tip: don't tell the bride to be that she has zero patience and that's not an attractive quality. Even if you're joking.

To top it off, this week has been a not so good week at work. I'm shattered, I have two mouth ulcers and I can't wear my contact lenses so feel like a 12 year old in my glasses.

But I'm looking forward to the weekend. Honest.

Wedding Blues

Unless you've been living in a cave, you'll be aware that this Friday there is a rather large, rather famous, rather 'I'll be able to tell my grandkids I watched it' wedding occurring. I'm over it.

Actually, I'm so over it I was never really under it. Living in London means ever since the wedding was announced it's all around me. I only cared about it while it was being decided if we get a day off. We do. I no longer care.

It is everywhere. Every single shop, television channel, magazine, restaurant and tacky souvenir stand features the wedding in someway. You can buy tea towels, mugs, even shopping bags. Why would anyone want a shopping bag exactly?

I'm not jealous. I'm not upset that the prince didn't pick me (although, Princess Fen has an excellent ring to it). I'm just done with the fuss, I'm done with every time I turn on the tv seeing something about it and I'm done with the shopping bags. I've seen people with them, using them. Honest.

I hear it's big news in the US and I honestly hope you all enjoy it and they keep the palace lit up past midnight or whatever the discussion / argument is going on at the moment. Just because I'm a Grinch about it doesn't mean I need to spoil others enjoyment over it.

But I refuse to buy any of you shopping bags and send them over. And I'm sorry Vi, I'm not camping out to hold up a sign that says 'Hi Vi!' next to Good Morning America's spot. It ain't gonna happen.

Hen Weekends....Beware.

One of my closest friends in the whole wide world is getting married. I am excited about this. I get to be a bridesmaid and wear a pretty dress. I am excited by this also. I've never been to a wedding before, this will be my first. I am mega-excited about this. So, just to be clear, I am honestly excited that my friend is getting married. This post is not about smug-married hating, wedding hating or wedding planning hating. Honest.

This post is about hen weekends. And the over blown affairs they have become.

***Note: According to Vi, hen weekends are known as bachelorette parties in the US, I will be referring to them as hen parties. It takes less time to type.***

As mentioned, I have never been to a wedding. Along with this, I have never been to a hen party or a hen weekend. That is about to change.

I understand the concept of hen and stag parties. Say goodbye to your single life with your friends, have some fun, have some drinks and take some crazy pictures. My issue is, when did this simple concept, this simple idea turn into a money-sucking activity. When did the parties become weekends?

I don't know if this is just a UK thing. But hen and stag weekends over here are HUGE. They have become a new form of tourism almost. There are cities known for their hen and stag weekends. You see the groups of people at the airport, raring to go. Most of them have already started drinking. They're wearing specially designed t-shirts and the hen groups will probably be wearing pink cowboy hats or pink feather boas. Or both.

Perhaps the weekends over here are so popular because, being a tiny island, it's easier (and cheaper) to get away for the weekend. For example, Ibiza, Prague and Marbella are very popular. The White Horse recently went on a stage weekend to Cardiff - and that was only for one night. They went to Wales. For one night. That cost the White Horse about £250.

£250. I've just been looking for a holiday, 3 nights in Prague and that's cheaper than a one night stag weekend in Cardiff. Therein lies my issue...the money. Why do you need to spend a fortune to get drunk, in a strange city, when you most probably won't remember much of the night before all because a friend is getting married? It's ridiculous. And unnecessary. It's just an extension of how weddings are becoming bigger than they need to be. It's about the marriage people, not the party.

Plus, it's an added expense to the wedding that you then have to attend. (I don't have this issue with my friend's wedding because as bridesmaid she is very kindly paying for my dress, shoes, travel to the venue and accommodation. We're also planning a fun hen weekend which doesn't involve travelling abroad, I seriously love my friend - and honestly and truly cannot wait for her wedding). If you are invited to both the hen / stag weekend this, coupled with the wedding means you will have to pay for:

Hen / Stag Weekend
* Travel
* Accommodation
* Food
* Drink (lots of drink)
Wedding
* Travel (if out of town)
* Accommodation (if out of town)
* A new outfit (if you're a girl, guys can possibly get away with not purchasing anything new)
* Wedding present

That's an expensive list.

I would like it to be known here, in writing, that should I ever get married I will not have a hen weekend. I will have a night with my friends - some pizza (or similar type of food), some cocktails (I don't drink beer) and some dancing. And maybe a pink feather boa. Just because.

Here Comes The Bride(zillas)....

I have a friend who is engaged. It's wedding fever people.

This weekend she invited me and her other bridesmaid to a wedding fair. It was an...interesting experience. There were crazy brides everywhere. Remember that episode of Friends where they go wedding dress shopping at that outlet in Brooklyn? Brooklyn's got nothing on this.

There were flower stalls, cake stalls (which had free cake, I made those my priority) tux stalls, you name it, they had it. You could have a chat about getting married in Italy, the Maldives, or for something a little bit different, Croatia. Couldn't think of what to do for your hen night? Then go visit the 'Ladyboys' stall and have a chat to the topless (but unfortunately not very attractive) male dancers / strippers. But wait! What if it all goes wrong and you end of jilted at the alter?? Well then, you really should visit the wedding insurance stall. Want something a little different? Hire a photo booth for your guests. It's only about £500. For 3 hours.

My two personal favourites? The wedding singer stalls - who sang as you walked by. Where's Simon Cowell when you need him? And, the 'Bridal Confidence' stall. Not sure how to be the confident bride? Come along to our hourly sessions where we teach you, amongst others:

* How to walk in heels
* How to be organised before your big day
and
* How to keep cool, calm and collected on The Day

Then, of course, were, The Dresses. Stall after stall of wedding dresses. Women squabbling for space to go through the racks, looking for The Dress. I was a little bit scared, I'm not going to lie. You had women and their friends debating over every sequin, every ruffle and whether The Dress would look better with a veil or a tiara.

To conclude, this weekend has made me somewhat scared of ever getting married. I don't want to deal with decisions about veils and tiaras, colour schemes, flowers or place settings. The only decisions I feel remotely capable of making is whether to choose between wine or vodka, and even then I sometimes struggle.

But the best moment of the day? One of the (few) grooms there saying to his fiancee: "Just let me know when you get tired and we can go." Thought it was supposed to be the other way round...?

Making Up The Numbers

Last week my friend invited me out to dinner with her, her fiancee, friends of hers who are also getting married next year and her other friend Edward. Before you get thinking my friend was trying to be sly and set me up with someone I should make you all aware of a few things:

1. Edward lives in the middle east
2. He has recently broken up with his girlfriend
3. When I say break up I mean break up, they were engaged, had set a date for the wedding and people had booked tickets to fly over for it. To New Zealand.

Oh no, I wasn't being set up, I was there to make up numbers, to make sure that Edward didn't feel uncomfortable surrounded by two loved-up couples. Forget Edward feeling uncomfortable, what about me?!

Things didn't get off to a great start, he was over an hour late and we were all hungry. By the time he did show up he was wasted. Absolutely plastered/pissed/very, very drunk. And this guy is 6"7, not an easy task I should think.

While we were at dinner the talk of the table was weddings. All about weddings. At one point the other bride said to my friend, another bride: "I can't imagine spending £10,000 on a wedding." My friend replied: "Oh I totally agree." I almost choked on my chicken. I happen to know that both sets of parents are contributing £10,000 to my friend's wedding fund. So maybe my friend was telling the truth, she can't imagine spending £10,000 on a wedding, but she can imagine spending £20,000.

Both myself and Edward were swiftly losing the will to live. Then my friend starts grilling him about his ex and how the break up went and did he keep the ring? I asked if he wanted me to change the subject. I have never seen anyone look so gratefully at me. Of course all I could think to ask was whether they had Glee in the middle east. They do.

I fear this has what it has come to. Surrounded by soon-to-be smug marrieds whilst desperately trying to steer the conversation away from weddings because it's upsetting the jilted drunk groom.

And might I just say, I am pretty damn good at it. And it's all down to Glee.

Happy 300th Post!!

Wow, 300 posts! I can't take much credit for this as I only started blogging last year, but congratulations to all!

So, let's talk smug marrieds.

I don't really know of any people my age who are married. The majority of people I know who are married are friends of my parents. Even at work there are very few people in the 'married' category. But this is soon(ish) to change. One of my closest friends is engaged and the wedding is being planned for a year in September. Excellent news. And I get to be bridesmaid. Even more excellent news. (I've been to 7 funerals in my life and 0 weddings. It's time for things to change.)

Here's the problem. I'm hearing an awful lot about weddings. Dresses, flowers, venues, guest lists, you name it. I've now started getting emails asking my opinion about venues- 'late bar' is my dealbreaker. I mean, I'm glad my opinion in being asked for but is this really going to go on for over a year? Because I may go crazy.

I am excited about it, really I am. It's just rubbing my face in my singletoness, which I am normally ok with, but sometimes I'm not and hearing about place settings doesn't help in these situations.

So I would like to say, in this 300th post that I am glad that while friends are getting engaged and debating between roses and lilies and chicken or salmon we here at WWBD? only need to debate between the karaoke kid and his roommate (for example)and vodka and wine.

Cheers! And here's to our 500th post!