So basically it's my year on the internet. I've done nothing else.
Best TV wet yourself laughing moment: Richard Bacon's Beer and Pizza Club, 8 November 2011. Actually, that whole episode.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Sunday, November 09, 2008
Bells they are ringing
Today I went to church.
I haven't been to church regularly since 2002. A lot of reasons. I started to doubt my motives for attendance. Was I going because it was important to me to be there, or important to my parents? Then there were problems with my lodger. He was going through a bad period over a girl. And one morning I was late. Somebody made a sarky comment at the door. No one important, not a leader, not a friend. Just some woman appointed to shake hands with everyone. I just snapped. And walked out. Pretty soon I stopped turning up all together. Didn't matter that I had responsibilities. I couldn't care less.
Since then, I had a brief attendance in early 2004, but otherwise I haven't visited apart from at Christmas. It's not the same. A large group of friends and the head minister all left in late 2002, just after I stopped going. It lacks something with them gone. Drive, spirit, passion. It feels flat. They all set up a new church in the next town. Too far for me.
After one of many long chats with Monkey Man, I decided to bite the bullet and email someone on Facebook who I knew attended the new church. And straight away she set me up with a lift with someone.
Going back... well, not really going back as such because I've never been before, yet it feels familiar... everyone who I knew from before was very welcoming. Feels just like the old days, warm, comforting. Little touches, methods I remember were tested out at the old church that were not kept up are in use here. Almost a pioneering feel, no formal dress, everyone pitching in. Really good atmosphere of worship.
I don't feel any loyalty to the old church. I love this place and I've been only once.
I haven't been to church regularly since 2002. A lot of reasons. I started to doubt my motives for attendance. Was I going because it was important to me to be there, or important to my parents? Then there were problems with my lodger. He was going through a bad period over a girl. And one morning I was late. Somebody made a sarky comment at the door. No one important, not a leader, not a friend. Just some woman appointed to shake hands with everyone. I just snapped. And walked out. Pretty soon I stopped turning up all together. Didn't matter that I had responsibilities. I couldn't care less.
Since then, I had a brief attendance in early 2004, but otherwise I haven't visited apart from at Christmas. It's not the same. A large group of friends and the head minister all left in late 2002, just after I stopped going. It lacks something with them gone. Drive, spirit, passion. It feels flat. They all set up a new church in the next town. Too far for me.
After one of many long chats with Monkey Man, I decided to bite the bullet and email someone on Facebook who I knew attended the new church. And straight away she set me up with a lift with someone.
Going back... well, not really going back as such because I've never been before, yet it feels familiar... everyone who I knew from before was very welcoming. Feels just like the old days, warm, comforting. Little touches, methods I remember were tested out at the old church that were not kept up are in use here. Almost a pioneering feel, no formal dress, everyone pitching in. Really good atmosphere of worship.
I don't feel any loyalty to the old church. I love this place and I've been only once.
Sunday, December 30, 2007
A year in the making
If 2006 was all about self discovery, then 2007 was finding out about my family. It seems i got through 29 years never really knowing them.
It all started last Christmas day when my dad sang karaoke at my sister-in-law's house. For some reason, finding out that he knew all the words to Ring of Fire and Son of a Preacher Man lead me to begin reconsidering my whole life.
I guess it never occured to me that he knew stuff like the words to songs. I always assumed my parents were happy to be very out of touch with the real world. Now it occured to me that maybe it was just my mum. Over the next year I noticed other things. Just talking to him, I realised he was understanding the pop culture references I mentioned. Finding out that he watched Two Pints of Lager and a Packet of Crisps, that was a wierd one. I discovered that, by totally ignoring everything my mum was saying in the background, I could have an entire normal conversation with him.
Earlier this year at my mum's birthday, my aunt (mum's sister) and uncle visited and brought her photo albums of the family. She had many photos of my grandad growing up that I had never seen before. My mum's album is full of pictures of my grandma and her family, and herself as a child. She also brought my grandad and his father's war medals that they had framed up. It was very emotional seeing and holding them, flicking through pictures of my grandad over the years. There was a photo of him in uniform at sea. Aunt said they were probably on the boat to Hong Kong. I'd known he had been a POW of the Japanese in WWII. I think if my parents hadn't been there, I would have blubbed my eyes out. But not in front of my mum. I don't respect her enough to let her see me cry.
This Christmas, my aunt and uncle came here again. They came round to our house after visiting with my parents, and we talked a lot about them growing up, moving around and my grandma's mental illness. She's a smart person, it seems as if she was aware of her mum's problems from an early age, even if no diagnosis had been made. I wonder if maybe my mum couldn't cope with it in the way that Aunt did. Aunt has mentioned that my mum was a goody two shoes, always did as she was told no matter what. It occurs to me that I was brought up to do the same. Always obey, parents, teachers, employers, government, but blindly, without consideration, because to question would be disrespectful. I think that it is healthy for children to say "No!" and to make their own decisions. I'm glad I eventually learned to do that for myself.
Maybe the reason my mum has hardly any photos of her dad is that she was blind to all else except her beloved mum. She cried loads when her mum died unexpectedly in her sleep nearly 11 years ago (can't believe it's been so long), but not so much when her dad died of cancer later that year. To be honest, I think her dad was always a little distant, as many POW survivors were. He never spoke of his experience until shortly before he died, and then it was to Aunt's vicar, and it was Aunt who arranged the burial and Aunt who planned the funeral. I don't think my mum ever really knew what he went through.
I think my dad had a fairly normal upbringing, and underneath is a fairly normal guy. Okay he's a bit OCD, obsessed with hygiene, maybe a touch of Asperger's, and he obviously feels the need to compete when it comes to other people's belongings. I wonder if, were it not for my mum, he would be doing more with his life. I remember being young and being told, my dad's hobbies were frivolous, his collection of old records was pointless, but these were normal things for a person to have in their life. Now I wonder if he was just trying to retain his own identity while keeping mum happy.
I feel guilty that the balance has shifted, but I feel happier that I get on well with at least one parent now. And I'm honestly not sure that my mum has noticed.
It all started last Christmas day when my dad sang karaoke at my sister-in-law's house. For some reason, finding out that he knew all the words to Ring of Fire and Son of a Preacher Man lead me to begin reconsidering my whole life.
I guess it never occured to me that he knew stuff like the words to songs. I always assumed my parents were happy to be very out of touch with the real world. Now it occured to me that maybe it was just my mum. Over the next year I noticed other things. Just talking to him, I realised he was understanding the pop culture references I mentioned. Finding out that he watched Two Pints of Lager and a Packet of Crisps, that was a wierd one. I discovered that, by totally ignoring everything my mum was saying in the background, I could have an entire normal conversation with him.
Earlier this year at my mum's birthday, my aunt (mum's sister) and uncle visited and brought her photo albums of the family. She had many photos of my grandad growing up that I had never seen before. My mum's album is full of pictures of my grandma and her family, and herself as a child. She also brought my grandad and his father's war medals that they had framed up. It was very emotional seeing and holding them, flicking through pictures of my grandad over the years. There was a photo of him in uniform at sea. Aunt said they were probably on the boat to Hong Kong. I'd known he had been a POW of the Japanese in WWII. I think if my parents hadn't been there, I would have blubbed my eyes out. But not in front of my mum. I don't respect her enough to let her see me cry.
This Christmas, my aunt and uncle came here again. They came round to our house after visiting with my parents, and we talked a lot about them growing up, moving around and my grandma's mental illness. She's a smart person, it seems as if she was aware of her mum's problems from an early age, even if no diagnosis had been made. I wonder if maybe my mum couldn't cope with it in the way that Aunt did. Aunt has mentioned that my mum was a goody two shoes, always did as she was told no matter what. It occurs to me that I was brought up to do the same. Always obey, parents, teachers, employers, government, but blindly, without consideration, because to question would be disrespectful. I think that it is healthy for children to say "No!" and to make their own decisions. I'm glad I eventually learned to do that for myself.
Maybe the reason my mum has hardly any photos of her dad is that she was blind to all else except her beloved mum. She cried loads when her mum died unexpectedly in her sleep nearly 11 years ago (can't believe it's been so long), but not so much when her dad died of cancer later that year. To be honest, I think her dad was always a little distant, as many POW survivors were. He never spoke of his experience until shortly before he died, and then it was to Aunt's vicar, and it was Aunt who arranged the burial and Aunt who planned the funeral. I don't think my mum ever really knew what he went through.
I think my dad had a fairly normal upbringing, and underneath is a fairly normal guy. Okay he's a bit OCD, obsessed with hygiene, maybe a touch of Asperger's, and he obviously feels the need to compete when it comes to other people's belongings. I wonder if, were it not for my mum, he would be doing more with his life. I remember being young and being told, my dad's hobbies were frivolous, his collection of old records was pointless, but these were normal things for a person to have in their life. Now I wonder if he was just trying to retain his own identity while keeping mum happy.
I feel guilty that the balance has shifted, but I feel happier that I get on well with at least one parent now. And I'm honestly not sure that my mum has noticed.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Re-view
Reading : The Third Reich in Power by Richard E. Evans (still) and Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J. K. Rowling (again)
Listening to : Delirious? - Live at Willow Creek
Well, it's two days till my wedding anniversary (yay), so I thought I would comment on the past year.
Shit.
Don't get me wrong, the marriage bit is absolutely wonderful, but it seems as though the rest of the cosmos has conspired to make me truly hate myself.
I'm considerably fatter, considerably poorer and considerably more depressed than I've ever been at any stage in my life. It seems as though all around me are finding jobs while I am just finding bank bills.
I'm still angry and bitter about the evening do (and still not sure if I want to talk about it).
At 29, I am feeling more under pressure to have kids, still don't want kids, and can't entirely envision myself having kids.
As Mr Blogstar put it, I'm bored with my life. There is nothing happening to get me excited.
By the way, I LOVED Harry Potter.
Listening to : Delirious? - Live at Willow Creek
Well, it's two days till my wedding anniversary (yay), so I thought I would comment on the past year.
Shit.
Don't get me wrong, the marriage bit is absolutely wonderful, but it seems as though the rest of the cosmos has conspired to make me truly hate myself.
I'm considerably fatter, considerably poorer and considerably more depressed than I've ever been at any stage in my life. It seems as though all around me are finding jobs while I am just finding bank bills.
I'm still angry and bitter about the evening do (and still not sure if I want to talk about it).
At 29, I am feeling more under pressure to have kids, still don't want kids, and can't entirely envision myself having kids.
As Mr Blogstar put it, I'm bored with my life. There is nothing happening to get me excited.
By the way, I LOVED Harry Potter.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
A change will do you good
Reading : The Third Reich in Power by Richard E. Evans
Listening to : The Diary of a Nobody on BBC4
We might be getting a new person in the gaming group, apparently he saw my website. I can't even find my own bloody website. And of course Mr Blogstar just can't say no even when he wants a quiet life. He wants to play Shadowrun and he's fairly good at D&D. Oh and he's American. One of our group has moved down south with a new job, he insists he'll still drive up every Sunday but really he should find a nice group there. His best friend is talking about moving there too. Another guy is frequently working or stressed so we don't see a lot of him. Another is usually working or painting. Another is in a post girlfriend binge drinking haze. So it's all change at the moment.
Listening to : The Diary of a Nobody on BBC4
We might be getting a new person in the gaming group, apparently he saw my website. I can't even find my own bloody website. And of course Mr Blogstar just can't say no even when he wants a quiet life. He wants to play Shadowrun and he's fairly good at D&D. Oh and he's American. One of our group has moved down south with a new job, he insists he'll still drive up every Sunday but really he should find a nice group there. His best friend is talking about moving there too. Another guy is frequently working or stressed so we don't see a lot of him. Another is usually working or painting. Another is in a post girlfriend binge drinking haze. So it's all change at the moment.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Two words...
Reading : I Shall Bear Witness by Victor Klemperer (still), Sex and Drugs and Sausage Rolls by Robert Rankin (still)
Listening to : Tiesto's Club Life on Radio 538 (podcast)
Hmm, deja-vu!
Well, I didn't get the job. Got a polite letter. My friend didn't get the job at Porsche. He has to spend 26 weeks in a tiny office looking for jobs, all day every day. But one of our friends has got a job without really trying and is moving down south next week. Lucky bastard.
Had another series of power cuts today, going off for just a second at a time.
On Saturday got a letter from Telewest-no-more saying that apparently I had not returned my cable set-top box (which I returned 3rd April) and they were planning to charge me £250! Turned out okay though. It seems the collection company haven't been bothering to send the boxes in, so no-one's records have been updated.
On Monday I finally bought Mr Blogstar's birthday presents, only two and a half weeks late. Got him two DVD boxsets: Rome series 1 (stunning packaging), and The New and Improved DX (WWE) which we watched a bit of in bed.
Next weekend we are going to see Pirates of the Caribbean 3 with Mummy Blogstar.
Listening to : Tiesto's Club Life on Radio 538 (podcast)
Hmm, deja-vu!
Well, I didn't get the job. Got a polite letter. My friend didn't get the job at Porsche. He has to spend 26 weeks in a tiny office looking for jobs, all day every day. But one of our friends has got a job without really trying and is moving down south next week. Lucky bastard.
Had another series of power cuts today, going off for just a second at a time.
On Saturday got a letter from Telewest-no-more saying that apparently I had not returned my cable set-top box (which I returned 3rd April) and they were planning to charge me £250! Turned out okay though. It seems the collection company haven't been bothering to send the boxes in, so no-one's records have been updated.
On Monday I finally bought Mr Blogstar's birthday presents, only two and a half weeks late. Got him two DVD boxsets: Rome series 1 (stunning packaging), and The New and Improved DX (WWE) which we watched a bit of in bed.
Next weekend we are going to see Pirates of the Caribbean 3 with Mummy Blogstar.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Blog-a-job
Reading : I Shall Bear Witness by Victor Klemperer (still), Sex and Drugs and Sausage Rolls by Robert Rankin
Listening to : Tiesto's Club Life on Radio 538 (podcast)
Yesterday had a job interview for 20 hours-a-week receptionist at a small doctors surgery. The interview lasted 9 minutes and went reasonably well. As usual of course, this is a sign that I did shit and somehow put them off forever. Now my best friend has told me he might be getting an apprenticeship at Porsche! Apparently he told them he loves watching Top Gear. He doesn't even like work! Lucky bastard.
Have decided to improve my current affairs and take up newspaper reading again. The Telegraph is looking very good these days, used to be very dull with awfully old fashioned typeface but now it's looking rather smart and modern. Or at least the online version does. Wow, I'm shallow.
On Saturday we went to watch 28 Weeks Later. It was violent, tense and jump-out-of-your-skin scarey, yet still I came away feeling that I had watched a superb film. This was a relief to Mr Blogstar, who after finding out two minutes in that I hadn't seen the first film, was thinking that maybe he shouldn't have so enthusiastically suggested we go and watch it together.
On Sunday my cat puked up part of my Live8 charity bracelet which I discovered earlier in the week he had been chewing on. All parts probably now accounted for, so hopefully Mr Fluff will not have to be dragged off to the vets to be "emptied".
Listening to : Tiesto's Club Life on Radio 538 (podcast)
Yesterday had a job interview for 20 hours-a-week receptionist at a small doctors surgery. The interview lasted 9 minutes and went reasonably well. As usual of course, this is a sign that I did shit and somehow put them off forever. Now my best friend has told me he might be getting an apprenticeship at Porsche! Apparently he told them he loves watching Top Gear. He doesn't even like work! Lucky bastard.
Have decided to improve my current affairs and take up newspaper reading again. The Telegraph is looking very good these days, used to be very dull with awfully old fashioned typeface but now it's looking rather smart and modern. Or at least the online version does. Wow, I'm shallow.
On Saturday we went to watch 28 Weeks Later. It was violent, tense and jump-out-of-your-skin scarey, yet still I came away feeling that I had watched a superb film. This was a relief to Mr Blogstar, who after finding out two minutes in that I hadn't seen the first film, was thinking that maybe he shouldn't have so enthusiastically suggested we go and watch it together.
On Sunday my cat puked up part of my Live8 charity bracelet which I discovered earlier in the week he had been chewing on. All parts probably now accounted for, so hopefully Mr Fluff will not have to be dragged off to the vets to be "emptied".
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Pissed off and resolute
Oops, the new year slipped by without my attention. So little is happening in my life that I haven't found anything to write about for a long time. I've been away so long, a new version of Blogger has come out, so at last I can update my settings and get the top banner to line up correctly.
Just after Christmas I got a lengthy letter from my former head of sixth form/A-level German teacher, who I had by chance decided to send a Christmas card to. I always find his letters deeply fascinating: the man has a great love of words and grammar, and enjoys reading and the theatre. But I always end up feeling very stupid and feeling the need to read more. So it this year that I finally renewed my library card, which I haven't used for at least seven years, and borrowed some books.
I've always struggled with reading. I don't mean that I can't read, or else I probably wouldn't be blogging. Rather, I find it hard to just pick up a book and read for hours. Reading when I was younger seemed to be at organised intervals, as I was otherwise too busy with homework or going out. With regard to genre, I never quite figured out what was my thing. I read books in the hope that they would make me more intelligent. I had a periodic obsession with Agatha Christie. But for some reason I always had a dislike of picking up a random book by a random author and just trying it out. Well thank goodness for Amazon, with it's synopsises, customer reviews and occasional "search inside" feature.
And so finally I have narrowed down my reading style discovered to comic fantasy. I started off on Tom Holt, one of whose books I borrowed from a friend years ago. He tends to write about ordinary people who encounter myths and magic and spend the rest of the book trying to figure out what happened. I also picked up some Robert Rankin. He has written a whole series of novels set in Brentford. I am currently reading the first book by Jasper Fforde. This guy's stuff is amazing.
Continuing the spirit of change, I also went to the dentist, and discovered that my teeth are exactly the same as at my last visit... seven years ago.
Oh and why am I pissed off? I am pissed off because one of the gaming group has just dropped a tape measure on one of my rare models and broken it into several pieces.
Just after Christmas I got a lengthy letter from my former head of sixth form/A-level German teacher, who I had by chance decided to send a Christmas card to. I always find his letters deeply fascinating: the man has a great love of words and grammar, and enjoys reading and the theatre. But I always end up feeling very stupid and feeling the need to read more. So it this year that I finally renewed my library card, which I haven't used for at least seven years, and borrowed some books.
I've always struggled with reading. I don't mean that I can't read, or else I probably wouldn't be blogging. Rather, I find it hard to just pick up a book and read for hours. Reading when I was younger seemed to be at organised intervals, as I was otherwise too busy with homework or going out. With regard to genre, I never quite figured out what was my thing. I read books in the hope that they would make me more intelligent. I had a periodic obsession with Agatha Christie. But for some reason I always had a dislike of picking up a random book by a random author and just trying it out. Well thank goodness for Amazon, with it's synopsises, customer reviews and occasional "search inside" feature.
And so finally I have narrowed down my reading style discovered to comic fantasy. I started off on Tom Holt, one of whose books I borrowed from a friend years ago. He tends to write about ordinary people who encounter myths and magic and spend the rest of the book trying to figure out what happened. I also picked up some Robert Rankin. He has written a whole series of novels set in Brentford. I am currently reading the first book by Jasper Fforde. This guy's stuff is amazing.
Continuing the spirit of change, I also went to the dentist, and discovered that my teeth are exactly the same as at my last visit... seven years ago.
Oh and why am I pissed off? I am pissed off because one of the gaming group has just dropped a tape measure on one of my rare models and broken it into several pieces.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
After the ball is over
They say weddings are a very emotional time but I guess I didn't anticipate how much.
I spent the week after the wedding crying a lot, crying for no particular reason, crying about nothing in particular. Everything made me cry. It was hard. I was happy to be married, very very happy, and nothing fundamentally about my life had changed, but somehow I was an emotional wreck! Not the best way to spend a honeymoon.
The Friday after the wedding we went on holiday for one night to Lancaster to our favourite hotel (read: ONLY hotel), ate some nice Chinese food and bought some roleplay books. It rained. A lot. Sideways. But it was a good two days. Our friends house-sat and the cat didn't starve himself to death this time.
After that, the boredom set in. I guess the past few months had been very busy. Mr Blogstar moved in, that was exciting. Then I found work. Then work finished and I enjoyed not working again. Then I started planning the wedding. Now finally, I had nothing at all to do. No job, no planning, no hobbies, no roleplay going on. My mental state went downhill. My waistline went uphill. I decided I wanted to change everything about myself. Which is odd because surely getting married is the ultimate sign that someone likes you as you are. Being married was making me feel more grown up. Or rather, actually grown up. Which meant dressing up. Long skirts, long sleeves, skate trainers. Grown up clothes. Or maybe they just show the fat less.
The cat knows things have changed. It must be love.
I spent the week after the wedding crying a lot, crying for no particular reason, crying about nothing in particular. Everything made me cry. It was hard. I was happy to be married, very very happy, and nothing fundamentally about my life had changed, but somehow I was an emotional wreck! Not the best way to spend a honeymoon.
The Friday after the wedding we went on holiday for one night to Lancaster to our favourite hotel (read: ONLY hotel), ate some nice Chinese food and bought some roleplay books. It rained. A lot. Sideways. But it was a good two days. Our friends house-sat and the cat didn't starve himself to death this time.
After that, the boredom set in. I guess the past few months had been very busy. Mr Blogstar moved in, that was exciting. Then I found work. Then work finished and I enjoyed not working again. Then I started planning the wedding. Now finally, I had nothing at all to do. No job, no planning, no hobbies, no roleplay going on. My mental state went downhill. My waistline went uphill. I decided I wanted to change everything about myself. Which is odd because surely getting married is the ultimate sign that someone likes you as you are. Being married was making me feel more grown up. Or rather, actually grown up. Which meant dressing up. Long skirts, long sleeves, skate trainers. Grown up clothes. Or maybe they just show the fat less.
The cat knows things have changed. It must be love.
Life is but a dream, sweetheart
So it's been nearly 2 months since I got married.
Yes, I thought I'd better write and let you know I did get married and that nothing terrible had befallen me (except maybe getting eaten by an historical novel).
But it's taken me this long to be able to put into words the events of the day. They say that weddings are a huge event in your life but I guess I didn't realise how much of an impact it would be.
After being immensely tense/stressed/excited in the lead up, the day itself felt incredibly calm. I think though I was running entirely on adrenalin. Not having enough sleep didn't really help. It was an odd feeling. Nothing seemed entirely real. I couldn't get it into my head that today I was getting married. It seemed just like any other Saturday. Well, to be honest it was more like a Sunday: the house was filled with blokes and I was running late, chasing round, tidying up and shouting at people.
Having finally got to my parents house (the concept of staying at their house the night before to get ready was just too much to bear) and got zipped into my dress in about 30 seconds... no, still didn't seem odd; being photographed eating toast while wearing a ball gown just seemed amusing. There was a lot of standing around getting my sister-in-law laced into her dress. Then photographs in the back garden. Having to show my own father how to put on a tie! Then finally leaving and seeing the neighbours casually standing by their front doors pretending they weren't really being nosey.
The ceremony was at 11.30am. I'm fairly sure we were late, but I didn't know what time it was, as my dressing-up watch had stopped working at some point earlier in the year, and I had stupidly only checked it the week before the wedding (it was pretty much guaranteed I would forget something). As we pulled into the registry office car park, Mr Blogstar and the two best men (one with brains, one with a car, as he later put it) were being photographed under some trees, then our friends walking up the driveway, and an old colleague from my first job, who I haven't seen in three years, with his young son! Yay!
Then there was some sort of dawdling on the landing outside the ceremony room, confirming my name, waiting for them to get everyone seated.
Then suddenly there was music playing (a Mexican piece, which it turned out was from The Good, The Bad and The Ugly and not just from a little film called Kill Bill Vol. 2, which I was banking no one noticing) and we were walking in. And there were the people I had invited who hadn't replied but had turned up anyway, it was so exciting. And all our friends from the roleplay group and our relatives. And oh yes, there was Mr Blogstar at the end trying to look casual. And still all I could think was, wow, is that my previous boss under that hat?
Then we were standing at the front, and my niece was running around, and the registrar was trying not to giggle, and Mr Blogstar was repeating his vows and I just wanted to laugh out loud, I mean, it was insane! Everyone was looking so serious and sombre and here was me in a huge red dress: ME, who only dressed up for interviews, standing opposite a man in a suit, who'd never owned a suit in his life, and still didn't, seeing as it was on hire. Then I was repeating my vows and hoping my voice didn't sound funny and trying not to start laughing.
Some music (from Kill Bill Vol. 2). My niece running around.
And then it was finished.
I was married.
Signing the register. Being photographed pretending to sign the register. Thinking, wow, I'm starving. Thinking, wow, I'm married. Grinning insanely. Walking down the aisle to Mariachi music (yep, Kill Bill Vol. 2 again). Lots and lots of photographs on the field behind the office. My niece running off everytime she was supposed to pose. Lots of poses with replica swords and pretend sword fighting. My aunt looking very keen on pretending to chop her husband's head off. The best man announcing he had locked his keys in his car after getting the weapons out. My feet hurting a lot because I wasn't used to wearing 3 inch heels.
Lunch. Oddly enough the restaurant at the hotel was almost empty. The table was incorrectly arranged. My calm attitude exploded and I nearly killed the waiter, who grovelled apologetically and rearranged the seats. The food was absolutely scrummy, this bit I do remember! Beautifully presented. Not too rich, not too stingey. Three courses and didn't feel stuffed. Cheesecake... mmmmmmm...
We then went on to visit Mr Blogstar's nan who was not able to attend the wedding. It was very emotional. She was so pleased. All her closest relatives standing around her. My niece eating Jelly Babies. It was lovely.
After that, there were still a few hours to kill until the evening do so Mr and Mrs went back home. Once again the house was full of blokes, they had all piled back to ours (once the best man's mum had brought him a spare set of car keys!) Changed into our skivvies. Opened our cards and presents. Went to get the room ready.
I don't want to talk about the evening do. Not for a while.
Yes, I thought I'd better write and let you know I did get married and that nothing terrible had befallen me (except maybe getting eaten by an historical novel).
But it's taken me this long to be able to put into words the events of the day. They say that weddings are a huge event in your life but I guess I didn't realise how much of an impact it would be.
After being immensely tense/stressed/excited in the lead up, the day itself felt incredibly calm. I think though I was running entirely on adrenalin. Not having enough sleep didn't really help. It was an odd feeling. Nothing seemed entirely real. I couldn't get it into my head that today I was getting married. It seemed just like any other Saturday. Well, to be honest it was more like a Sunday: the house was filled with blokes and I was running late, chasing round, tidying up and shouting at people.
Having finally got to my parents house (the concept of staying at their house the night before to get ready was just too much to bear) and got zipped into my dress in about 30 seconds... no, still didn't seem odd; being photographed eating toast while wearing a ball gown just seemed amusing. There was a lot of standing around getting my sister-in-law laced into her dress. Then photographs in the back garden. Having to show my own father how to put on a tie! Then finally leaving and seeing the neighbours casually standing by their front doors pretending they weren't really being nosey.
The ceremony was at 11.30am. I'm fairly sure we were late, but I didn't know what time it was, as my dressing-up watch had stopped working at some point earlier in the year, and I had stupidly only checked it the week before the wedding (it was pretty much guaranteed I would forget something). As we pulled into the registry office car park, Mr Blogstar and the two best men (one with brains, one with a car, as he later put it) were being photographed under some trees, then our friends walking up the driveway, and an old colleague from my first job, who I haven't seen in three years, with his young son! Yay!
Then there was some sort of dawdling on the landing outside the ceremony room, confirming my name, waiting for them to get everyone seated.
Then suddenly there was music playing (a Mexican piece, which it turned out was from The Good, The Bad and The Ugly and not just from a little film called Kill Bill Vol. 2, which I was banking no one noticing) and we were walking in. And there were the people I had invited who hadn't replied but had turned up anyway, it was so exciting. And all our friends from the roleplay group and our relatives. And oh yes, there was Mr Blogstar at the end trying to look casual. And still all I could think was, wow, is that my previous boss under that hat?
Then we were standing at the front, and my niece was running around, and the registrar was trying not to giggle, and Mr Blogstar was repeating his vows and I just wanted to laugh out loud, I mean, it was insane! Everyone was looking so serious and sombre and here was me in a huge red dress: ME, who only dressed up for interviews, standing opposite a man in a suit, who'd never owned a suit in his life, and still didn't, seeing as it was on hire. Then I was repeating my vows and hoping my voice didn't sound funny and trying not to start laughing.
Some music (from Kill Bill Vol. 2). My niece running around.
And then it was finished.
I was married.
Signing the register. Being photographed pretending to sign the register. Thinking, wow, I'm starving. Thinking, wow, I'm married. Grinning insanely. Walking down the aisle to Mariachi music (yep, Kill Bill Vol. 2 again). Lots and lots of photographs on the field behind the office. My niece running off everytime she was supposed to pose. Lots of poses with replica swords and pretend sword fighting. My aunt looking very keen on pretending to chop her husband's head off. The best man announcing he had locked his keys in his car after getting the weapons out. My feet hurting a lot because I wasn't used to wearing 3 inch heels.
Lunch. Oddly enough the restaurant at the hotel was almost empty. The table was incorrectly arranged. My calm attitude exploded and I nearly killed the waiter, who grovelled apologetically and rearranged the seats. The food was absolutely scrummy, this bit I do remember! Beautifully presented. Not too rich, not too stingey. Three courses and didn't feel stuffed. Cheesecake... mmmmmmm...
We then went on to visit Mr Blogstar's nan who was not able to attend the wedding. It was very emotional. She was so pleased. All her closest relatives standing around her. My niece eating Jelly Babies. It was lovely.
After that, there were still a few hours to kill until the evening do so Mr and Mrs went back home. Once again the house was full of blokes, they had all piled back to ours (once the best man's mum had brought him a spare set of car keys!) Changed into our skivvies. Opened our cards and presents. Went to get the room ready.
I don't want to talk about the evening do. Not for a while.
Friday, August 11, 2006
Panic Stations
Days to my wedding : 1 -- Excitement level : stratospheric
Well, the panic of the last few days has subsided and has been replaced by a giddy feeling, since I saw my flowers at the florists this morning. Apart from the fact that I keep thinking it's Thursday, I'm quite excited.
It can't go too badly. At least it's sunny today. Wednesday was fairly terrible. It rained. Within the space of half an hour everything went downhill. As I was due to go out to take the lunch menu choices to the restaurant, the printer settings for the program went screwy and wouldn't print the list off. Then the phone broke down and all we could here was a loud buzz, so we couldn't phone out, just as I was about to phone out. Then the cat on exiting the litter tray had not detached all the poo from him, so there was a mad scramble to stop him reaching the carpet and painting it a lovely new colour.
My handbag has still not arrived. Not feeling hopeful.
The flowers look stunning. The buttonholes were in pyramid bags!
So what else have we done this week?
On Saturday we had a party and sleepover. We did some Paranoia, consumed a lot of Bacardi Breezers and did not get a lot of sleep.
On Sunday they all went home eventually.
On Monday I went a bit mad buying thank you presents.
On Tuesday I picked up the dresses from the wedding shop. Tried on my dress for my mum later and she got all misty eyed. It looks stunning.
On Wednesday we went to Makro to pick up large quantities of items for the buffet. Our friend's mum took us, so we had to follow her round while she looked at shoes and clothes first. The boys went running off exploring, it was very sweet. We then filled up the tiny space left in the freezer from the trip to the Chinese supermarket last week with bags of chicken legs and the like, and had to put all our own food in my parents' freezer.
On Thursday we went shopping for more thank you presents. Then later a friend came round and celebrated his birthday (it is on the Monday after the wedding).
Now it's Friday. And we have to go buy more buffet food (salad, bread etc.) Then we empty our freezer and get back our own food.
Then nothing. Till tomorrow.
Eek.
Eeeeeeek.
Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well, the panic of the last few days has subsided and has been replaced by a giddy feeling, since I saw my flowers at the florists this morning. Apart from the fact that I keep thinking it's Thursday, I'm quite excited.
It can't go too badly. At least it's sunny today. Wednesday was fairly terrible. It rained. Within the space of half an hour everything went downhill. As I was due to go out to take the lunch menu choices to the restaurant, the printer settings for the program went screwy and wouldn't print the list off. Then the phone broke down and all we could here was a loud buzz, so we couldn't phone out, just as I was about to phone out. Then the cat on exiting the litter tray had not detached all the poo from him, so there was a mad scramble to stop him reaching the carpet and painting it a lovely new colour.
My handbag has still not arrived. Not feeling hopeful.
The flowers look stunning. The buttonholes were in pyramid bags!
So what else have we done this week?
On Saturday we had a party and sleepover. We did some Paranoia, consumed a lot of Bacardi Breezers and did not get a lot of sleep.
On Sunday they all went home eventually.
On Monday I went a bit mad buying thank you presents.
On Tuesday I picked up the dresses from the wedding shop. Tried on my dress for my mum later and she got all misty eyed. It looks stunning.
On Wednesday we went to Makro to pick up large quantities of items for the buffet. Our friend's mum took us, so we had to follow her round while she looked at shoes and clothes first. The boys went running off exploring, it was very sweet. We then filled up the tiny space left in the freezer from the trip to the Chinese supermarket last week with bags of chicken legs and the like, and had to put all our own food in my parents' freezer.
On Thursday we went shopping for more thank you presents. Then later a friend came round and celebrated his birthday (it is on the Monday after the wedding).
Now it's Friday. And we have to go buy more buffet food (salad, bread etc.) Then we empty our freezer and get back our own food.
Then nothing. Till tomorrow.
Eek.
Eeeeeeek.
Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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