Of wedding bells and Stephanie Says 28.05.09, 7:29 pm
This is my best friend, Becky, whom you possibly remember but here�s an image just in case. This was taken on the day of the wedding before we started getting ready in a ginormous stressful rush.
And here is me, in case you�ve forgotten what I look like, with a boy in tow.
And here is Becky on the big day with her new husband, Nick. My lovely, wonderful Becky looking absolutely beautiful.
And here is me in the infamous dress, which I am told is actually fine, and an elaborate hair-do that took a good two hours to get used to and is still dubious to this day.
Some more photos for you...
Bride and groom in the church garden.
Jenny, Becky�s sister, Becky, Ryan (best man), Nick, Becky�s brother, Mel and me.
Ushers, bridesmaids and married couple together in a big mish-mash.
Me and Mel hanging out in the Manchester Art Gallery before the meal. Very, very hungry at this point, as lunch had consisted of a banana, three Jaffa Cakes and a beta-blocker (palpitaty badness).
The boy in full kilt.
Red me dancing next to someone in a dreadful shirt.
Just gorgeous.
The morning of the wedding was pretty bloody stressful, owing to the hairdresser (who would be at the service too) giving us all bizarre hairstyles that we all initially hated and obviously couldn�t get rid of without offending. The photographer then turned up, who was Becky�s mother�s sister (so couldn�t be rude about her), and who bossed us around thoroughly for most of the morning. About an hour before kick-off Becky suddenly had a complete break-down and had to be sorted out (i.e. me stroking her arm and saying, �No one�s going to faint� and �Don�t worry, it�s going to be absolutely lovely, we�re all here� like a broken Hallmark record), and then suddenly we were all standing at the doors of the church and the knobbing vicar was making us pray again. YOU CAN�T MAKE ME CLOSE MY EYES, SO THERE. The wedding itself was lovely, if not overtly religious. I sang the dreadful Christian soft rock songs, during which there was much waving of hands and clapping, but refused to pray, as it was meaningless to me.
After the service we were bossed around for yet more photos, and then James, Mel and I drove to Manchester, checked in, hiked to the Art Gallery, arrived late and finally got to eat a real meal. We were sat next to Bossy Photographer (CURSED BY GOD FOR NOT PRAYING) and Becky�s cousin who is in a Christian rock band and doesn�t have a real job. He asked me and James which church we were from and there was a terribly awkward silence when I replied, �Oh, we�re not religious at all.�
Danced the rest of the evening away, and then James decided to have a stupid, unfair argument with me right at the end of the night, and threatened to just leave and go home, thus spoiling the day and meaning that I missed saying goodbye to Becky. We then went back to the hotel, apologised to each other and had drunken make-up sex, which I didn�t really want at all but figured that it would make everything okay again. Not great, I know, but then life isn�t perfect.
Friday night was the best bit though, as I spent about half an hour talking Becky through the finer points of foreplay and orgasms and putting a condom on a banana for her. Seriously. I think the banana�s still on her sister�s bedside table. But yeah, Becky is now married and I still haven�t gotten my head around it. I�m dying for her to come back off her honeymoon so I can talk over the whole day with her.
To complete this multimedia-themed entry, the Mellanby Opening Day is less than two weeks away, and Andy and I are playing a couple of songs for it. We had a rehearsal on Tuesday and currently sound like this when practising Stephanie Says by The Velvet Underground:
Very much need to a) learn the words and b) learn the song, otherwise I am going to die of embarrassment in front of the most important bone research people in the world. Gah.
