Of Girls Aloud and completed hen dos
19.05.09, 10:32 pm
Four days until heaven�s own wedding on earth, people. How the hell has six months passed so quickly?! One minute I�m moaning about how quickly Becky�s gotten engaged, and the next it�s almost time to slip on the blue-green dress of doom. I know it�s tradition to get all sentimental and weepy at weddings, but I think I�m going to be too busy worrying about the alarming rate that time seems to be passing me by, and how I�m probably going to turn 60 soon without even realising.
Fascinating weekend spent buying some different brown shoes, which are a little mumsy but better than the original pair bought (less likely to trip me up in a hideously embarrassing, mid-aisle-walking moment), and also buffing James�s kilt. No, not in that way. The tassley bits on his sporran (aha, this all sounds very dirty in my head, because I am still a child mentally) have all gone green and tarnished, so I was given the task of shining all the silver bits on the entire kilt outfit (sporran, kilt pin, jacket buttons) as James�s clod-hopper hands were too clumsy for it. I am worryingly domesticated these days. I was also dragged to watch the new Star Trek film, which was okay, but not the most amazing film ever created. I also had no idea who half of the people were, which I think was half of the point of the film. Oh well. Also got a bit pissed whilst watching Eurovision, which I think is standard practise for such occasions.
My God though, the highlight of the weekend was Girls Aloud on Friday night with the two (ex) students. The whole thing was bloody amazing, despite the huge toilet queues forcing us to shove all three of us in the disabled loo at the same time, and Cheryl is the goddess of all goddesses. Her lovely, lovely face was a joy to watch all night, and I think I have a girl-crush on Sarah too, which caused James to anxiously enquire if I was a lesbian on the Saturday morning after I informed him. But yes, fantastic night. Took a million videos and will make you all endure one next entry � pretty sure every one features my disembodied voice shouting �MARRY ME� when Cheryl comes on the big screen, but oh well. You blatantly wouldn�t say no. Less fantastic was trying to get out of the car park afterwards, which took a whole bloody HOUR. Combination of someone breaking down at the exit and us being stuck in the retard queue that refused to be assertive in leaving the arena in any way.
Another hideous death-defying driving lesson today. I�m not cut out for Sheffield driving... it�s just too stressful. I get out of the car a shaky wreck each and every time. James is still threatening to put me on the Skodemobile�s insurance.
Oh God, just realised that I haven�t mentioned the hen do at all! It was okay in the end... the outfit was passable, and tea was lovely, though some of Becky�s friends were a bit stiff and overly Goddy, if that makes sense. Due to demand, I made a wee off-the-cuff speech and made Becky cry (ha, result!), and we finally traipsed into Manchester about midnight and spent a few hours in some random club dancing to the cheesiest music I�ve heard in a long time. I didn�t really drink, as I was so palpitatey I genuinely thought I was going to have a heart attack at one point (unfun), so I didn�t spend much money. Silver lining and all that. Rolled out of bed dying of sleep deprivation the next morning and was back in Sheffield by lunchtime, just in time for the God-awful Grand Prix with the boy. I didn�t even mind it... I was just bloody relieved that it was all over.
I will shove some pictures up next entry, promise. Am just a bit tired, for a change.
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