Hey there loyal readers who are still dutifully coming back every day to check if I've broken my wedding silence. And phooey to the rest of you, who are abandoning me like scared guests from a wedding where the bride has had one too many signature drinks and the groom was caught ogling the bridesmaids leading to a full on brawl on the dance floor.
A huge huge thank you to all of you for your lovely comments, emails and posts over the last two weeks, they have really meant the world to me and each and every one of you has made me smile so very much. I know you are all itching to hear about the wedding and I am itching to find the words to describe what was a truly wonderful week with some really hideous bits. Because unfortunately, due to a rather horrible experience with our venue on the day of the wedding which has left me distinctly traumatised, the traditional if slightly unimaginative 'It was perfect!!' just won't suffice when it comes to a brief but informative recap.
(Oooh, exciting aside - the phone just ran and I called The Boy 'my husband' for the first time! Shame it had to be to the police.)
I'm also completely overwhelmed by the sheer quantity of photos we have of the wedding, 2270 to be exact and we're still waiting for the professional ones. I just need to look at them and my brain threatens to explode.
So instead I'm going to distract you with my two new favourite wedding blogs.
Baby, Picture This is the blog of an English girl with lovely taste, a Jenny Packham dress and a flair for gorgeous photography.
The second is
I Hate Planning My Wedding, a hilarious blog written anonymously by a woman whose family seem to be doing their very best to drive her completely mad and for whom wedding planning is a horribly battle pushing her further and further down the road to alcoholism. A woman after my own heart in other words. She truly cracks me up and satisfies that part of me that is really really pissed off with weddings and wedding venues in particular.
Not that I didn't have a wonderful time and the wedding wasn't utterly wonderful. I did, and it was. It's just that the venue let us down so spectacularly, behaved it such a shitty way to us, our friends and our families that when I think of the wedding those wonderful memories that include moments where I was happier than I could ever have imagined I would be are competing with memories that make me really, really fucking angry.
So, give me a little time. I will find the words, I will figure out the photos, I will share with you the delights and horrors of getting married. I just need a little longer. Thank you for your patience.
Oh, and the police have nothing to do with the wedding, the venue wasn't
that bad.
We woke up to discover our poor little car had been broken into. Glass everywhere, glove compartment rummaged though, embarrassing medications scattered all over the passenger seat for our distinctly unfriendly neighbours to giggle at. There was nothing worth stealing in it though, we have the crappiest car in the street. It's the only one that looks like instead of an alarm going off if you breath near it, the driver's door might fall off. Removing the need to bother yourself with smashing the window.
