Going to the chapel and...

Well I've been to two whole weddings in the last 3 weeks. And they were both divine.

And just quietly that makes ten weddings in adult life. I consider myself an expert guest now. From spotting the oddly-shaped envelope, to having a special "wedding" handbag, "wedding" wrap (a pretty but totally ineffectual shawl for your shoulders, boys) developing expertise in going "off-register" for friends since you've known since student days. An aside... Gift registries are for Great Aunties, I don't care what anyone says about it being about what the couple actually needs in the house, they can get stuffed, noone is going to make me buy them a matching toilet brush set! [Well unless it was a direct reference to the the time I regurgitated a massive yum cha breakfast, while suffering a terrible hangover from a party we threw while sharing a flat -for example]

I've been to Canberra, Adelaide, the Cotswolds, the Gold Coast and the 'Gong. I've seen weddings on a boat, a thai restaurant, a fancy hotel, a coupla gardens and a coupla churches. Even was the main act at one*. Generally, I'm the ubiqutious girl guest though, quaffing the champagne and wolfing down the 3 courses with delight (especially if it inludes gravy).

So I just though I'd share with you readers some compulsary wedding ettiquette. And also if any of you are brewing a plan to tie the knot, in the old skool tradition.. then don't forget...

• Make sure there is an older uncle or grandfather present who is just walking that fine, fine line between delightedly chatty, having the chance to converse with so many nice young women in a legitimate setting, and hideously leery and overbearing. Can careen from one to the other in course of the event;
  
• Brides: you must remain in To.tal. Con.trol . You will have organised everything down to the last detail, and sail through the thing in the manner of a highly paid events manager rather than a blushing virgin (well that's how new millenia emerald city chicks do it anyway);
  
• Brides: you will suddenly realise you're going to have to wear high heels to keep that dress off the ground.. "high heels, what, I haven't worn these hideous things since my year 12 formal!" you have been warned;
• Make allowances for over-emotional friends from university, who insist on either excessive glass dinging/over enthusiastic toasts/starting the dancing/not buying pressies from the register/cracking on to your younger brother - or all of the above;
  
• Brides: Thou shalt be pissed by main course. This is mandatory, don't be embarassed. In fact, this is my favourite part, because a drunk bride is always an exceptionally happy drunk.
  
• Grooms: You will exhibit best social behaviour in the whole history of the realtionship. You will personally greet every single person at the thing, effortlessly gliding from one group of guests to the next with the aplomb of a French diplomat.
  
• Grooms: You may also say something borderline between racy and incredibly sweet and romantic during your speech. Its touching. Do not, I repeat, do not mention: a) the cost of the event, b) any of her ex-boyfriends, or c) anything about anyones' family members.
  

Anyway, its all good. Although I have been noticing a worrying trend towards sensible daytime affairs that wrap up about 5 with half the guests still sober and capable of driving. I now fear most of my friend-wedding opportunities are exhausted.. but for any more of you.. c'mon, you'll never have hilarious Aunty Vera stories without a completely debauched evening bacchanal. Stop being such growned ups!

* oh hang on, I didn't mean the bride, I was literally, the entertaiment. Dancing. Heh heh.

The little things

If you've read one of the Dirk Gently books this will make more sense to you.

I was walking in Tugun a couple of weekends ago. (Sounds like a Patsy Cline song.. I'm a walk-ing, on the gold coast, on the free-way, just like we used to do.. ). Anyway I was walking along the side of the Gold Coast Highway, to meet some cats from Sydney for dinner. And its about 7.30 pm. and theres a million cars swhooshing past and bugger all pedestrians. Then one of the super bright freeway-grade streetlights clicks off.. - just as I walk under it. Like exactly the moment I pass underneath. And I laugh to myself because this happened in a very funny Douglas Adams book, where it was the work of the God Thor trying to get a woman's attention.

Then, the awfully nice inner-west types who were also visiting the gold coast walked me back to the motel at about 11-ish. As we passed under the same streelight, it just jauntily clicked on again. Nice one.

And then .... a few days later, crossing at the pedestrian crossing on my very own block. You guessed it. Streelight shuts of with a definitive CLICK. Spooky, man.

New Look

Yes - its baby poo brown. Welcome to your suburban Primary school colour scheme. That grand service called CommentThis, where some nice young American man provided free hosting for injokes and obscure ABC Tv references seems to have shut down. I was so upset that I have not posted for weeks out of sheer desolation.

Yes its true all. The witty repartee of last February is lost to cyber space. For any new readers (well a girl's allowed to dream ain't she?) a synopsis of the last 18 months of comments.

"I reckon he likes you"
"nah bullshit"
"Yeah, honest he does [insert hilarious banter and many silly puns]"
"Well ok maybe you were right"

"Hey I realise many of my friends are in the neighbouring suburbs but I've become so de-socialised that sometimes I can provide greater attenion spans to the LED screen and optic fibre than to actual flesh and blood humans"
"me too"
"me too"
"hey I'm overeas gimme a break"
"oh, okay, lets go to the pub".

So get to it kids.