Greetings from 2AM!
- I#m going to use bullet points because it’s quite late!
- Tonight I went to a Scottish wedding reception
- I went by myself because Gareth is down at the Wickerman Festival
- Which was very inconvenient when you’re trying to zip up an unforgiving fitted frock. I was seconds away from not going at all or asking the taxi drive for assistance. I blame my recent discovery of flapjacks.
- The frock totally puffs out from the waist so my arse looked enormous, or like I was hiding a television under my skirt. At the time of purchase I’d told my sister I don’t want to look like a flower pot but she insisted it’s the style.
- I saw a bloke with a bright red fluffy sporran. It looked like Elmo was curled up in his crotch.
- You cannae get a better workout than a ceilidh. A ceilidh is a Scottish dance thingo – take yer partner by the hand, strip the willow and all that. This was the most hardcore ceilidh I’d ever encountered – the band were relentless, playing on and on until we were just about ready to vomit from exhaustion. If I’d been wearing my heart rate monitor it might just have exploded. Forget Spinning and Body Jam, they should have ceilidh classes at the gym! It’s exhilarating and fun and you don’t realise what a great workout it is until you notice your blistered feet and flaming calves. By the end of the night the crowd was soaked with sweat and shining like seals on a beach.
- There was a very Scottish buffet at half time to boost our energy – haggis, neeps and tatties, bacon rolls and wee paper cones of fish and chips. There was cake too, but I had a second bacon roll. You gotta take the bacon when you can get it.
- The bride and groom were gorgeous. It was such a down-to-earth affair but with classy personal touches, like a slideshow of photos from their actual wedding earlier this year set to poignant music, to watch while we ate our bacon. I squirmed thinking back to our shithouse Microsoft Word invitations that I spewed out on the photocopier at work and stuffed into shitty old brown envelopes. Why why why? DUDES, if I had my time again I’d make things classy. With lashings of bacon!
- I’ve just spent half an hour trying to take a picture, re-lipsticking and running back and forth with the self timer. Now I’m even more sweaty. Shiny calves ahoy!
- This frock is a perfect metaphor for my state of mind lately. Everything looks alright if you stand very still, dodgy bits disguised, but as soon as you move things around it’s all a wobbly mess!
(I wrote this on Saturday morning but neglected to hit publish and then I went down to the Wickerman and forgot. I’ll never be one of them professional blogger types. Sniff.)