Ooh, it is that dozens of premium sounds Marriage Invitation (printed on only the heaviest, best quality card) muzzle on my doormat? Finally, ‘John Lewis gift list and trains season at midnight. Except, no, it is not. This finally happened: I have not been invited to a single wedding in this summer. Not even Bezos Extravaganza in Venice – I Know,
They are not, I don’t think, some lovely home counties behind my back are happening in the church. It is more that I know that everyone is either married, not a plan to marry happily, not plans to marry happily, or not single. After years of spending almost the entire summer season in weddings – and naturally not mourning about time and expenses – I am missing myself. I am just a girl, standing in front of a picture, thinking that her seat is on the table plan.
In fact, do you know that Richard kurtis wrote Four marriages and a funeral After realizing that he went to 65 weddings in 11 years? I am not sure I have raked a lot, but it has been quite a conveyor belt. A woman I know that in the same summer went to so many weddings with the same people in the same summer, that found in a rhythm (“See you on next Saturday!”) She yet shaken another church and just to know that she was not really invited to the ceremony. Strange. I went to two weddings once in a single day – ceremony and champagne reception, reception and dance in the first time. Both are told a spot, truth.
I have seen all this. The wedding took place in a historic town hall, which was a fleet to reverse cement trucks from outside. He put a disgusting end to the hog roast with a thunder. The one who ended with everyone, “Con-At-At!” On the groom and the bride. He continued to pronounce the name of Bambling Victor Bride in a wrong way. A one where a swimming pool was served a pornographic amount of grief on the podium around a swimming pool. Where we had to run into the church, as the bride was about to start walking down from the corridor, because we would put the wrong postcode in Sat Nava. That where someone gave a full speech about the Bristol Stool Chart. He was shining on us where my husband was standing on the edge of the former danceflor. He was ill in a plant vessel before an aunt meal. On which the bride demanded a big tequila, the moment was shot when the first dance was over (Oh, that was the last one).
There have been weddings on converted barn, woodland glads, registry office, church, chapels, hotels and beaches. I sang a hymn, from the “cycle of life” Lion king And Spice Girls’s “2 became 1” (he was mine again).
