I’ve just had an afternoon nap for two hours. Its Easter Sunday and I’ve dozed off for a whole two hours. I feel proud of how bank holiday that behaviour is. Its what bank holidays were invented for, snoozing. Its what Jesus would have wanted to do after all that dying and coming back, which I think is one big metaphor for having a bit of a snooze anyway. I felt a bit like death this morning and now I’m back up after my nap, which is pretty much the same as Jesus I think. Although Jesus didn’t drink anywhere near as much as I did yesterday which makes me the winner. I feel like its done me some damage though and I’ve got a sty in my eye which is just irritating. Its irritating because it doesn’t feel very nice and also because a sty is where pigs live and I don’t want tiny pigs in my eye. I’m sure they’ll move in if it stays there too long.
The wedding yesterday was great. All of it. The venue was a very posh golf club just outside of London where celebrities and the very rich go to play golf. I was told by one of the other guests that my idea of hiding behind the bushes on the golf green and shouting ‘BOO’ as people were about to put would definitely land me in a lot of trouble, so I decided against it. They were beautiful grounds and it was so posh that out on the balcony area of the bar there was a big sign saying ‘No Spikes Allowed’. Less posh clubs have people carrying spikes and more than one person called Spike but this place wouldn’t allow either of those things. The ceremony itself was brilliant and I found myself afterwards drinking fizzy pink wine and saying comments like ‘didn’t the bride look stunning’ and ‘weren’t the readings so lovely?’ I think the booze must’ve had some sort of hormone drugs in it to turn me into a big girl. The whole rest of the day induced further gushing girly comments as all the speeches were really good and the food was all very tasty. The promise of not caring about the weight watchers diet was upheld and as the desert, a chocolatey cake thing with cream and cherries and sugar and more chocolate and more sugar, was brought to the table, there was almost a blinding light from how lit up our eyes went. Helen, Terry, Layla and myself barely said a word as we eat our way as slowly as possible through chocolate genius. I already miss it and think I will preserve its memory next time I am eating something massively unhealthy and unsatisfying. It will be the culinary equivalent of the ‘wank bank’.
I realised a certain way in just how pivotal it was that these were the first of our friends getting married and it suddenly clicked how long ago we were at university. Its only a matter of time before someone has kids, or worse still, gets into gardening. The only way to cope with this was to party like we were all still in our early 20’s, in tribute to those times.
Wine mixed with beer mixed with spirits does not feel great the next day but at the time it seemed like a brilliant mix of stuff. The boozing continued way into the night with some unadvised further drinking at the hotel bar on return. This was a very good idea at the time but when I was woken up at 8.45am this morning still completely steaming with booze to go and join the post wedding breakfast it became blindingly clear how unable I am to cope with the consequences of lots of drink. There was a large sea of wedding guests sitting at the tables with heads in hands, looking like they weren’t coping all that well. It was as though all the fun of the previous day had somehow turned into sheer sadness due to self damage.
I wanted to type a lot more today but I’ll be honest I’ve hit a wall. Its a wall created entirely by hangover. Its hurting me to look at the screen and try and type so I am going to cut this blog short and go for some possible further napping infront of the TV. Its what Jesus would do.
