Wednesday, September 28, 2005

Goin' to a wedding

I was still at work frantically working on a hateful assignment (don't ask), up until about 9pm. Needless to say I am Sergeant Schultz here.

"I know Nothing, NOOOOTTTTHING !"

Anyway, with work done, and home now, this is my last of these for a few days. For tomorrow I am off to the wedding for who the Bachelor's party was recently held (see previous blogs).

It's in Katoomba in the Blue Mountains in NSW. For those of you not in the know The Blue Mountains are basically a series of small towns along an escarpment outside of Sydney. It was known in the 1920s as a place for the well heeled to hang out, and it kind of has a bohemian atmosphere even now. It's known for the number of alternate life stylers that live there, the many tourist spots to gawk from, and a high number of incidences of mental illness from an incredible level of drug use.

As noted I previously met the bride when I woke up in her laundry (her clothes, not the room) at a party at her place. Well, soberly met her. I vaguely remember having met her the night before. She was best friends with my wife - and they have stayed good friends ever since. Indeed they used to procrastinate on psych assignments together by sitting on the verandah of my Wife's share house smoking entire packets of cigarettes and drinking coffee, then writing the whole assignment in a single 90 minute sitting while whacked out on nicotine and caffeine.

So now the friend is marrying her boyfriend of four years standing, a Colin Firth look alike geologist whose mad about cricket.

As noted this I don't get. In fact not getting cricket, football, rugby (any iteration thereof), and not being able to drive a manual car very well makes me as about as lesser an Australian male as you can be and still have testicles and citizenship in this fine country.

But I get him. He's lovely. He's the sort of person you meet and instantly warm to. And I am so happy that he and she are together. If any people deserve some happiness it's them.

So I will be hooking up at this shindig with her and his families, and her and his friends. There will be people coming from Uni (circa 1992-1994) that I don't really get on with, but I figure with 100 or so close friends and almost all family I can bear this for a while. Plus my old friend Mr Alcohol will be able to help there - though I have to do this in moderation lest I get kicked in the guts by the IBS fairy.

"Did anyone call for me and me intestinal trickery ??? Tee ha ha hee hee ha ha"

I have no idea if there is a bridal table, where my wife will be located as chief wench, which means if so I will get stuck somewhere down the back where the after thoughts are assigned at weddings. Which is kewl. I will try and emerge from my protective shell and engage in witty conversation, which, knowing me, will likely be turned to the subject of my bottom and it's many idiosyncrasies.

There will be thrills, spills, speeches (thank God not me - my Best Man's for my brothers started 'I have known the happy couple for some years now...' without a hint of intentional wit), dancing I am sure, and all sorts of other wedding type action - like karaoke. So it will be a blast.

Wish me luck punters, and I will likely check in a couple of days (if able to), and of course give you a post action report of what occurred - warts and all. Let's just hope there's no enforced counting of urinal cakery like at the Bachelor's party.


♪ “If you think I’m sexy AND you want my body, come on baby let me knoo.” ♪


2 comments:

  1. Good luck! Try not to make yourself sick on all the food!

    Aah! I have no word verification picture! How can I post? *hits refresh a few times*

    Ah, there we go!

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  2. I just ate half a cake. And it's three days to the wedding...

    ... so much pain...

    ReplyDelete