I’m going to veer away from my usual mild cynicism to tell you about the joyful occasion at the weekend. Despite being unemployed, my old friends from uni haven’t disowned me (yet) and I had cordially been invited to my dear friend Lori's wedding to another Aberdeen medical school 2006 alumni, Dave. The happy event was held firstly at Lori’s home town church followed by a rather decadent reception at the splendiferous Dunblane hydro hotel.
My seemly constant companion Andi picked me in Edinburgh and we travelled upward to Stirling to our B&B where we changed in a frenzy and got to the church in (plenty of) time. There was a reunion with a vast majority of my uni friends with the notable presence of Katy May and Laura Armstrong who are doctoring it down in England-shire and Suzie, a halls friend unfortunately seldom seen. Unfortunately, there were a few notable absences including Anthony and Cat both gadding about in Oz (‘working’ is their excuse). The church was a grand affair and I could barely contain my excitement waiting for the bride arrive. Typically when she did, I was so overwhelmed my photography suffered, however my vision was not and what a vision she was. Lori looked absolutely wonderful, I can’t gush enough about her delightful strapless dress with a lovely splash of diamantes and she also had a really wonderful veil which sparkled like frost on a spring morning! Yes, I was slightly overcome with emotion, but I did not cry, go me!
The reception followed afterwards, as is the custom and despite a bizarre sat-nav incident where it tried to take us on to the railway track, we successfully got there. Suzie had a room and kindly allowed to check my hair and make-up where I discovered my hair was still perfectly in place (in fact I put so much hairspray into my improvised ‘up-do’ that it remained that way overnight and for a large part of the next day). However my tights had ripped in the most spectacularly bizarre fashion, where the leg on the left side had met the crotch there was a massive hole! What to do? My dress was long and it could not be seen, but what if the ladders spread?! Fortunately Suzie had clear nail varnish and I generously applied it to the hole and the underlying leg. This would become a problem later on that I will return to.
The reception was lovely. Gush gush gush. I was a table with my two wives (as they became to be known that night), Andi and Sarah and several other delightful friends. We laughed, we ate, we drank and we whoop whooped at the speeches (or was that just me). I’m not saying we had the funnest table, but on discovering we had two surname place settings with ‘cock’ in them and with Andi surname of Ma, we did arrange them in rather amusing fashion- hohoho. You can see the rather hilarious outcome of this high jinks on my facebook photos album cunningly labelled ‘Lori’s wedding’.
And then the best part of the wedding began- the ceilidh. Just like Nicole Kidman says in her rather sickening advert for Chanel no5 ‘I love to dance!’ and I do, especially ceilidh dancing. On moving through to the hall area, a few uni friends gathered at a small table were instantly, seemly with powerful psychic powers of observation, inundated by the waiters bringing through all the left over wine from the meal and placed it on our table- the joy. In fact by the end of the evening, our small take contained about 8 bottles of rather fine vino that kept us all in merry spirits. There is something to be said about being a layman at a Christian wedding....
Anyway soon the band started, my shoes came off and the dancing began. And it went on. And on. Even when the band took a break and put a cd on, me and my two wives could not be persuaded from the dance floor and some rather amusing dancing with small children occurred. In retrospect, Sarah and I grabbing the ankles and wrists on Lori’s cousin, Amy the flower girl and hurling her around, whilst amusing, was perhaps not the safest procedure for any involved. Fortunately, no serious injuries were incurred. After a very vigorous Arcadian Strip the Willow followed by a enthusiastic Old Lang Syne, the wedding was finally over. Andi and I had opted to stay at B&B as mentioned and had to get on the free bus to get to our beds. We were joined on this by several of the guests including Karen (currently in Dumfries) and her rather delightful boyfriend Michael whom I had just that night for the first time. Karen and Michael were both enthusiastic ceilidhers during the wedding and the four of us sat on the bus rather loudly discussing what fun we had and singing various songs. Curiously their destination was the first the bus stopped at, followed by our own and I have to suspect that the bus driver in fear for his ear drums ensured our abodes were the first arrived at. Or perhaps I’m just being paranoid. On retiring to our room, it was then I discovered the error of using half a bottle of nail varnish to affix your tights- it sticks to the skin. I near gave myself a free wax getting my hosiery off.
Lots more happened at the wedding than I was aware of. The down side of dancing near every dance at a ceilidh is that you lose the opportunity to talk to people, so I send my apologises to all my friends that I barely spoke to during the happy occasion. But you should all know, I just do love to dance! A major thing that was missed during my dancing frenzy was the presence of some of the Celtic football team in the adjacent bar. To be honest if I had seen them, I wouldn’t have been aware of it, such is my lack of interest in football. However by all accounts, many of my fellow guests were greatly excited by this. One of those similarly unclued up by footballers was my landlady wife Sarah, who on looking for her jacket in the cloakroom inadvertently asked one of the Celtic players to fetch her coat only to be informed the man she had asked assistance was not on staff. One thinks the Celtic strip he was wearing was a clue, but may I just remind you there were 8 bottles of free wine on our table.
The next day I felt surprisingly clear headed, but my body ached. My legs, my calves epically told me in no uncertain terms that in future I should stretch before embarking on a 5 hour ceilidh dance marathon. But it was worth it.
The rest of this week has been fairly standard. Looking for jobs, an interview (which I did not feel went well, but I’m yet to hear), eating crisps with Sarah and watching Buffy. I did go see a Eddie Izzard gig in Glasgow with my landlady wife and her brother last night which was funny and makes a change from the usual. However, despite this respite from the norm, the seemly unending days of unemployment are beginning to take their toll. Mainly on my shoulders as hours hunched over my laptop scouring for jobs is playing havoc with my upper back and that combined with the uncomfortable seating at the Eddie Izzard gig and the mad dancing of the weekend, I’m beginning to feel rather stiff and crippled.
Perhaps its time for a holiday?