#159: Go to a wedding

Strange but true: I have a phobia of weddings. But on Saturday one of CJ’s cousins was married to the love of her life, so we drove up to Sydney to join the fun.

The groom promised, among other things, that “although we sometimes fight like Batman and Two-Face, I know we’ll always laugh about it afterwards – like Harlequin and the Joker.” The bride promised, among other things, “not to tune out when you talk about soccer, football, or Batman.”

Ah, l’amore.

Sure enough, the instant the bride appeared I was sold. A wedding is such a courageous declaration of love and faith that it’s impossible to stay unmoved. Plus CJ’s family is hilarious. His mother has three sisters, and each one is fascinating, intelligent, and definitely going to end up thinly-disguised in one of my books one day (including CJ’s mum. And her mum).

At their mother’s 80th, three of the sisters stole the eldest’s phone and took photos of their bellies for her to discover later (the eldest is very much the grown-up of the family). I’m pretty sure the mum did too. At my own wedding (after CJ and I had excused ourselves), my mum and CJ’s mum were talking, and my mum said, “Who IS that woman falling over, over there?”

CJ’s mum then said the immortal words, “That’s my sister.”

Fantastic.

CJ’s family has certain bogan tendencies (Aussie bogan, which tends to involve the non-ironic application of ug boots and fake tans), so the Macarena, the Nutbush, and “Mickey” were all pulled out during the reception, but luckily they also played plenty of Queen, Pink and Michael Buble (and Taylor Swift, which I confess I enjoyed). When dinner was well and truly done, fairy lights lit up the roof in circles and a disco ball threw stars across the ceiling. There were delicious pink cocktails, far too much food, two very cute lesbian couples, several small children in dresses and button-up shirts, and aunts (and thus Louise) on the dance floor. In other words, it had everything a wedding should have.

Play along at home: Next time you’re invited to a wedding, go for it. Ride the rollercoaster and wish for the best.

Coming soon: Visit godparents

Road Trip

Three-Ingredient Thursday

Community Classes

and surprises (for me, too)

2 thoughts on “#159: Go to a wedding

  1. No, my poor 80 year old mum would never have done a belly shot … it was just a couple of cleavage shots from the two younger sisters and I was guilty of the belly shot…. Go with your strengths I say 🙂

    Oh and as for bogan tendencies – yes a few family members do definitely pride themselves on that particular aussie characteristic but most of us are too liverpudlian to do a very good impression of an aussie bogan….

  2. There’s nothing weird about a wedding phobia – nothing combines total boredom, absolute terror, and the incredible capacity for inadvertent rudeness/massive embarrassment the way that a wedding does (at least funerals are a bit poignant sometimes…)

    Honestly, when will people see the light, realise that the Human Race is a terrible mistake and finally give up on the whole pairing-off-and-breeding thing…

Leave a Reply