the good, the sad and the ugly

First the sad: My grandma died on Thursday rather unexpectedly. Actually, when she was admitted to the hospital they said she wouldn't survive the week, but she was actually doing better recently and my parents had an appointment with a social worker to see how her rehab was supposed to work out. Well, nothing of the sort, apparently...I shall miss her. So it goes :((

That of course meant that my parents had to stay home from the wedding in England and I just went with my brother. That in turn meant we suddenly were converted from the supporting act to the main course. But it was actually fun. I'll give you the full rundown - including assorted pictures. (Me like wedding pictures. If you're like me, the full thing is here at Pixum. 150 pictures in glorious technicolour. If you chicken out at the prospect of about 20 pictures of people throwing confetti you might just want to follow my other links)

We were picked up at the airport by Chris who is
a) the groom's brother
b) my brother's exchange student from ages ago
c) the best man
d) all of the above.
Chris of course immediately informed me that we were going to miss the best rugby game EVER because of the bloody wedding (FYI it ended England 25 South Africa 6. There was a spectacular dropkick(??) goal by Johnny Somethingorother who also did an advert with David Beckham and could, indeed, bend it much better than the man himself. Or so I am told). I was also informed that David Blaine (who??) was exiting his box but alas! I couldn't go throw stuff at him since the happy event took place on Sunday when I would have already left.

We then met up with the groom (Tony) who did not leave his phone all evening other than the moments he was trying to write his speech for the wedding day. He was trying to get help from a wedding speech book that suggested using humor and included jokes such as this:
Two cannibals are walking through the jungle when they suddenly encounter a beautiful maiden. Says the younger cannibal: "Uncle Reg! Let's take the maiden home and cook her!" Says the older cannibal: "No, Bob. Let's take her home and cook Aunt Mabel!"
I actually laughed, because I
a) am easily amused
b) everybody should laugh at a cannibal named "Uncle Reg"
c) all of the above
Anyway, we did not quite see what this joke had to do with a wedding and decided to ditch the speech book. As I understand Tony was still writing the speech at 1 a.m. (and he actually did include Uncle Reg - just for me, awww :)

The next day everybody dressed up. Very impressive: the Queen Mom aka Heather. I think everybody was wearing that hat at some point. I am thinking I look rather splendid. Not everybody can wear a handbag like Chris can, though.

Then the main event: Two pictures of the happy couple. And one picture of the bride and a couple of men dressed up like penguins. And bridesmaids. I actually was mistaken for one of the bridesmaids occasionally as the colour of my shawl matched their burgundy dresses (sort of). I look slightly drunk in most of the pictures, though. That's probably because I
a) was slightly drunk in most of the pictures
b) don't photograph very well
c) all of the above

Then the celebrations continued with dancing & more drinking. Contrary to folklore there were no single men whatsoever at the wedding, though. Wouldn't have mattered anyway since everybody thought I was married to my brother anyway. Sigh. Well, it was a nice wedding and I had fun.

The next day we watched some rugby (Ireland trounced Namibia, Wales barely escaped Tonga) and I discovered I actually might like rugby. At least I involuntarily cheered an Irish try(??) by yelling: "Go, little Irish man!" I am informed that (after England, of course), Ireland are jolly good at rugby. Then we went shopping at Sainsbury's where I was laughed at because I pounced on a tin of syrup (come on, it was the brand the Naked Chef uses!!) and went on a magazine buying rampage. Go! Hello! You name it, I bought it. It wasn't my fault! We also took one of the bridesmaids with us and she was in line before me, counting out all her change and I'm an impulse checkout shopper. (She wasn't very friendly anyway and kept sneering at me when I was compulsively throwing crisps and other baked goods into the trolley. She bought a can of baked beans and a can of tonic water. Because she needed sugar. Whatever.)

So I basically had fun in England. But now I am back home and the bad mood is creeping back in bitch, bitch, moan, moan. And the funeral's on Thursday :( Everything else is pretty dreary, including the weather. Also, my throat started hurting. On top: My Sainsbury's cranberry juice drink unfortunately tastes rather awful because I overlooked it being a diet drink. Sigh.