The Wedding
Weddings are a time of pointy, heeled shoes and awkward dresses. Times of waiting to take off a stiff old hat and eating way too much. A time to talk to random people and have a good cry. A whirligig of emotion in best dress.
Definitely a good excuse to have random conversations with people you don’t know, often drunk people who have lost their wife. Perhaps a person who’s been looking for the cloakroom for the last hour to store their hat. People get very confused. The day is so long by the time it gets to 8 o clock and six glasses of wine later - you’ve kicked off your tired shoes, put your feet up and are wondering what all these people are doing in your front room!
Nice to have the odd sandwich though, and think about Dr Who - and you know, not for lack of trying, you won’t watch the repeat. Doesn’t stop the thoughts, and all of sudden you start to think about how comfy your couch is - even though you moan about it most of the time.
It’s the fake aunties and uncles that like weddings the best, or the parents’ friends. Bless. It’s their domain and their role is crucial. It’s one of the indicators later on (when drunk) that tells us we are at a wedding- oh apart from the bride and groom.
The bride and groom must always attend their social obligation, and circle for hours like eager students trying to gain merit. But when that’s over they can relax. Everyone’s pissed. Everyone’s having a fabulous time. By George they’ve pulled it off. They didn’t see the hysterical tears in the toilet or the vomit on the floor, they didn’t notice that it rained on us at one point and we felt cold.
Everything hazes over. Endless chatter fills the room. Swirling lines of hats and babies and penguins serving food engulf us whilst the loud jolting laughs of a red-faced man hit our conscience and ensure our postures are upright. We remember ourselves, sit to attention and try our best not to go the toilet too many times.
Definitely a good excuse to have random conversations with people you don’t know, often drunk people who have lost their wife. Perhaps a person who’s been looking for the cloakroom for the last hour to store their hat. People get very confused. The day is so long by the time it gets to 8 o clock and six glasses of wine later - you’ve kicked off your tired shoes, put your feet up and are wondering what all these people are doing in your front room!
Nice to have the odd sandwich though, and think about Dr Who - and you know, not for lack of trying, you won’t watch the repeat. Doesn’t stop the thoughts, and all of sudden you start to think about how comfy your couch is - even though you moan about it most of the time.
It’s the fake aunties and uncles that like weddings the best, or the parents’ friends. Bless. It’s their domain and their role is crucial. It’s one of the indicators later on (when drunk) that tells us we are at a wedding- oh apart from the bride and groom.
The bride and groom must always attend their social obligation, and circle for hours like eager students trying to gain merit. But when that’s over they can relax. Everyone’s pissed. Everyone’s having a fabulous time. By George they’ve pulled it off. They didn’t see the hysterical tears in the toilet or the vomit on the floor, they didn’t notice that it rained on us at one point and we felt cold.
Everything hazes over. Endless chatter fills the room. Swirling lines of hats and babies and penguins serving food engulf us whilst the loud jolting laughs of a red-faced man hit our conscience and ensure our postures are upright. We remember ourselves, sit to attention and try our best not to go the toilet too many times.
Catherine
posted by Catherine & Jamie | Wednesday, May 17, 2006
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