Before you get over-excited, I’m not talking about mine.
If you know me in real life you’ll already know that I’ve been talking about this wedding for months. My extremely Scottish cousin married an extremely English man and there was a great deal of consternation. I joke, of course, since that’s precisely the type of union I’m a result of. Half-breed Scot over here, hence the extremely pale skin and gingerish hair. However, said Englishman is quite wealthy, and my cousin is a hell of a party planner/neuroscientist so safe to say the wedding was incredible.
We’re talking professional firework displays that could be seen twenty miles away, more food than I’ve ever seen in my life, an amazing wedding cake (two red velvet tiers and three lemon) that the bride MADE HERSELF, while studying for her final university exams to become a doctor. If I didn’t know what a power woman was already, I definitely do now. As delighted as I was by the spectacle of the evening and as happy as I was for my cousin, this was a special wedding for me for another reason. This was my first wedding where I could drink!
Yes, okay, that’s not that special, but it was my first wedding as an adult and I loved it. Everyone always says weddings are a drag, but I truly loved it. I’m the emotional type anyway and had a little cry during the ceremony – I think I just really enjoy seeing people in love. I also love to dance, leading to me sprinting through the rose garden in heels because I heard the band strike up A-Ha’s Take On Me, my poor boyfriend jogging after me with the handbag I had abandoned in a flowerbed.
I had a wonderful time, and it was far preferable to be a guest rather than a bridesmaid or flower girl for the first time. No doubt it helped that it was a family wedding, as it meant that I already knew several people there or knew of many of the others. I get along really well with my family, and being able to just dance and have fun with them was a real treat. Sure, there were a few hairy moments, such as trying to keep my borderline Communist grandfather away from the Tories, or at least ensure that no political topics arose, but the night pretty much went off without a hitch. I certainly had a great time, the bride and groom were happy and I didn’t have too much of a hangover. A success all round, I’d say.