Wednesday, November 4, 2009
The Wedding - first report from a reformed fornicator.
I'm back! No longer a sinful fornicator, but a WOIFE.
The pics are floating in, but all small so far, will post the best I can. And the post-wedding report will be as random and patchy as my return to pre-wed life, I'm afraid. All went well - it was an absolute blast - but I am broken afterwards.
The heart, it is happy. But the bod - it has collapsed. I have never, ever been so stressed. The wedding was a 20's themed party with after-dinner cabaret. Details later - and some clips too.
A snapshot: 5 minutes before the ceremony pictured, I was on the floor of the hall up the road, with two screaming children on my lap. My friend Dr Lucy had just pierced my ears with an ice cube. I wasn't dressed, the kids weren't dressed and I had so many stress hormones coursing through my veins that I felt moments from soiling myself in a number of ways.
The kids were swept away, I was dragged to the change room where my mum and sister threw my frock on and we all searched for the Hollywood tape that was needed to hold my bra to my dress. No tape. 'Take it off! Take your bra off!' yelped Sam, and so I did. (Presciently, it turned out, when our friend Mick performed a song at the cabaret with these lyrics; 'She's a whitey in jeans, she's an outlaw, she don't wear a bra...' One of my favourite surreal moments.)
So the lead-up was panic.
But the actual ceremony was beautiful, the cabaret went well, and Keith and I interpreted our relationship through dance... Clip to come. Honeymoon was flu-central. Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and tissues on the couch. But we're home now, and bit by bit, I'm sorting through the chaos to return to a peaceful life.