Bridesmaid #2
06.01.14, 4:45 pm

My best friend Mel is getting married in September and I�ve been asked to be a bridesmaid. Yes, once again I�m going to be a bridesmaid. I have to admit, when I first found out that Mel was getting married a small, selfish part of me hoped that she�d just ask her two sisters and forget about me. Let�s be honest, weddings are much more fun when all you have to do is turn up, sit on a big table with all of your old university friends and drink so much that you suddenly like the taste of tequila. But no, I�ve been asked and I�ve accepted (because how, genuinely, are you supposed to decline?) and I am to be a bridesmaid again. And every time I read that sentence I have flashbacks to Becky�s wedding, where I was also a bridesmaid, i.e. the Christian Fundamentalist Fun-Time wedding of 2011. The one with the Worship Band and the full church service and the clapping and the heaven-pointing and the PRAYING THE ENDLESS PRAYING, PLEASE STOP PRAYING ABOUT THINGS THAT DON�T EVEN MATTER LIKE THE WEATHER. Now I love Becky, even though she�s being a pretty rubbish friend at the moment, but her wedding was mildly terrifying.

However, Mel�s literally assured me that her wedding is going to be completely different, so that�s good. I�m down in Birmingham next week, for boring work purposes, and after I�m finished in the day we�re going to go bridesmaid dress shopping in the Bull Ring and not be allowed to eat anything until the task is completed. Oh God, I hate dress shopping. I love you Mel, like so much its physical weight would sink the Titanic, but I cannot get excited about my bridesmaid�s dress. It�s physically impossible for me; I am a rubbish girl at the best of times, and this time is no exception. As long as it�s not a weird teal colour and isn�t fitted with a �Are you sure you�re a size 10? It�s incredibly tight on you� comment (Thanks, Becky�s mum!) I�m sure it�ll be just fine. Just please don�t give me weird hair like Becky�s auntie did, which I then couldn�t undo as she was at the wedding and would have noticed. That was a sad one.

Christmas with James�s family was fantastic � one of the best, in fact � but by the 2nd I was ready to come back home. I can only handle so much family time before I am desperate to retreat into myself and just bumble around on my own. We got home last Thursday and have basically spent the past three days playing Batman on the PS3 and watching Breaking Bad. It�s been brilliant. Back at work now though; the daily grind hasn�t set in yet, but give it time.

Speaking of 2014, surely this is now the year for James to propose, given that we�ve been together over 7 years now. I vaguely brought up the issue on holiday last year, and it was as disappointing as all of those types of conversations with James usually are. At least I was prepared for it. His response to my �Do you want to get married?� was �Yeah, eventually.� Like thanks a bundle, Romeo. I know he wants a bambino soon, but I�ve told him that I want to get married before having babies, and time�s bloody running out now. I�m going to be 29 in a few months� time, and who knows how long it�ll take for me to conceive, and we�ll probably want more than one, and I�d quite like to continue with my hard-fought career afterwards. Oh God, and even thinking of babies freaks me out a bit. How am I supposed to not drink for 9 months?

We�re having a Burns Night party for my research group on the 25th, as a kind of belated house-warming. James has promised to wear his kilt, which is always good value as there are so many fun bits to play with, like the little sock dagger or the kilt pin in the shape of a sword. None of James�s work friends are invited, just my work friends (yay!), but he�ll probably have his revenge by making us all eat lots of turnip and listen to endless Robert Burns poetry in a Scottish accent. If you�re in the fortunate position of having never heard any Burns poetry then don�t be tempted to change that. It�s literally nonsense. Read the poem He Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven by Yeats instead � it�s one of only two poems that I truly adore.

Right, it�s finally stopped raining, and is therefore safe to leave the office and battle home.

last - next