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Aug. 21st, 2014 08:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hathycolHI EVERYONE. Am back, am not dead!
I went away two weeks ago (two!!) and travelled with Richie up to the West Midlands, where we were embarking on the first stage of our Summer Holiday/Wedding Road Trip Adventure. Our first port of call was Claire and George's house, as they were the first couple to be getting married and we were going to housesit for them, i.e. use their place for free accommodation. We briefly spoke to both bride and groom before they went their separate ways, and we picked up two old Richie's old housemates at a nearby rail station and settled in for what is one of my favourite kind of nights - red wine, food to share, catching up with old friends. Claire and George's wedding wasn't until 2pm the next day, either, so we had a leisurely morning too, getting ready and swapping hats (I had lots of weddings! I had to be prepared!) and enjoying a drive through the darkest West Midlands to the actual wedding venue.
Okay, I had to drive, but such is life.
The wedding itself was really, really lovely. It was a beautiful old mill in the middle of the countryside. They had friends sing during the ceremony, the bride looked beautiful, I wept through the vows as I now do at ALL weddings. The rest of the day was lovely, too. Richie had FAILED TO RSVP MY DIETARY REQUIREMENTS so I had a very awkward moment when I had to ask for the veggie meal, although I think my sheer piteousness and the fact I was willing to take a plate of the meaty stuff and just eat the side salad may have played in my favour. Amazing food, though! And the first best man's speech I've ever seen via medium of powerpoint and a film trailer. We danced all night to a truly epically dreadful wedding DJ, and I drove home very sober but buzzing from adreneline until I fell into bed. It was a really, really lovely day.
Less lovely was my early wake-up on Sunday. Ugh. My mother is from the West Midlands, and although I neatly sidestepped taking Richie to see the hillbilly relatives from Rowley Regis (vis the medium of having not spoken to them for about 12 years now) we did go and see my Grandad and Nan for a night in Worcester. Nan had a debillitating stoke 18 months ago and to be quite honest I've been avoiding it, but she looks much better then when she was in hospital, and the new extension of their house with wheelchair access and a proper bed for her must be helping. More awkward was meeting a woman that mum told me about a few months ago, who is Grandad's... er... friend. No one is asking further questions. Nan is not aware that anything is going on. Crucially I am also not meant to know. Still, you now, awkward. (And I understand, I do, Grandad is still young and Nan is, well, it's not good. But oh.)
Despite that, we survived an overnight stay. We took the Awful Dog for a walk ("it's got no personality, it's like a void of a dog" is Dad's opinion) and in the evening I had some wine and, well, we survived, basically.
The next day was my 27th birthday (OH GOD WHY HOW AM I SO OLD) and we trundled up north to visit my parents. The week was spent mostly drinking and eating, which frankly I am all in favour of. We went back to our old stomping ground in Southport, and drank far too much beer and cider, and had a barbeque, and tried to relax. Although! Do not go to a pub! On A-Level results night! I feel SO OLD! Also neither Matt or I could remember what we'd done on the same night, which is a little concerning. "I mean, I know I lost my virginity at the END of the night, but between about 7pm and midnight it a little blurry?" yeah I'm classy.
Of course, this was taking into account my neighbour's driveway builder, WHO I KNEW FROM MY OLD WORK. I know him because he refers to all women as 'babe' and I once flipped and howled "MY NAME IS COLLEEN ACTUALLY" and on a hot day he once came in without a shirt on and pasty crumbs in his chest hair. OMG ARGH WHAT I NEVER WANTED TO SEE HIM AGAIN.
However, we had gone to Ormskirk for such a long stint in order to go to another wedding, this time for Adam and Jess. It was also a lovely, lovely wedding, this time in Southport registry offices (which I used to live 5 minutes away from). It ran slightly late as the wedding before had a guest have a heart attack half way through (!) but still seemed to go okay. Jess wore a beautiful 1950s dress and somewhat predictably I also cried. The reception was in Aughton Village Hall (which I also lived five minutes away from) and was really lovely. They'd done the venue up themselves, entirely homemade, and as Adam is a chef he'd done the prep for the food. Also, free booze! ALL DAY! Oh god. I must confess it was slightly less to my taste than Claire and George's, but I still had a good time. Jess and I had a mad bonding session of "BUT I KNEW YOU WHEN I WAS THREE AND NOW WE ARE BOTH MARRIED WHAT". Matt came along later and we nabbed a lift home with his mum.
Exhausted, I was taking my make-up off and Richie and gone to bed when I realised that my parents were still out. I knew they'd been out to the neighbours for Apology Curry due to the ongoing driveway works, and it was about this point my mum stumbled back, demanding beer. "Er, okay," I said, and put on my shoes and took some over. This is all literally via a missing panel in the fence in the back garden, you must understand. "COLLEEN! OR POSSIBLY MEGAN! HAVE SOME WINE!" my neighbour insisted. I really didn't want to, but very drunken neighbours plus parents plus my lack of sobriety meant it didn't happen. Dad even went and got Richie, which Richie privately informs me was SUPER WEIRD.
... anyway, I got home at about 4am. UGH.
The next day was a hangover, put it that way.
And on Monday, it was back to London. It was... really nice to visit the north again, as well as mega cheap. I do miss it sometimes, particularly when the area around my work is TOURIST CENTRAL and so help me GET OUT OF MY PUBS. But I do also very, very much like being in London, I hasten to point out.
Anyway. I have now been back to work for three days and my period has FINALLY FUCKING TURNED UP. I'm mostly torn between going "yay! menstrual cycle! no more peeing on sticks for me!" and "ARGH I HAVEN'T DONE THIS AU NATUREL FOR YEARS IS IT MEANT TO HURT THIS MONTH". This weekend Mary is coming to stay, and next week I enrol in college and am officially a student again. That's good, right?
I went away two weeks ago (two!!) and travelled with Richie up to the West Midlands, where we were embarking on the first stage of our Summer Holiday/Wedding Road Trip Adventure. Our first port of call was Claire and George's house, as they were the first couple to be getting married and we were going to housesit for them, i.e. use their place for free accommodation. We briefly spoke to both bride and groom before they went their separate ways, and we picked up two old Richie's old housemates at a nearby rail station and settled in for what is one of my favourite kind of nights - red wine, food to share, catching up with old friends. Claire and George's wedding wasn't until 2pm the next day, either, so we had a leisurely morning too, getting ready and swapping hats (I had lots of weddings! I had to be prepared!) and enjoying a drive through the darkest West Midlands to the actual wedding venue.
Okay, I had to drive, but such is life.
The wedding itself was really, really lovely. It was a beautiful old mill in the middle of the countryside. They had friends sing during the ceremony, the bride looked beautiful, I wept through the vows as I now do at ALL weddings. The rest of the day was lovely, too. Richie had FAILED TO RSVP MY DIETARY REQUIREMENTS so I had a very awkward moment when I had to ask for the veggie meal, although I think my sheer piteousness and the fact I was willing to take a plate of the meaty stuff and just eat the side salad may have played in my favour. Amazing food, though! And the first best man's speech I've ever seen via medium of powerpoint and a film trailer. We danced all night to a truly epically dreadful wedding DJ, and I drove home very sober but buzzing from adreneline until I fell into bed. It was a really, really lovely day.
Less lovely was my early wake-up on Sunday. Ugh. My mother is from the West Midlands, and although I neatly sidestepped taking Richie to see the hillbilly relatives from Rowley Regis (vis the medium of having not spoken to them for about 12 years now) we did go and see my Grandad and Nan for a night in Worcester. Nan had a debillitating stoke 18 months ago and to be quite honest I've been avoiding it, but she looks much better then when she was in hospital, and the new extension of their house with wheelchair access and a proper bed for her must be helping. More awkward was meeting a woman that mum told me about a few months ago, who is Grandad's... er... friend. No one is asking further questions. Nan is not aware that anything is going on. Crucially I am also not meant to know. Still, you now, awkward. (And I understand, I do, Grandad is still young and Nan is, well, it's not good. But oh.)
Despite that, we survived an overnight stay. We took the Awful Dog for a walk ("it's got no personality, it's like a void of a dog" is Dad's opinion) and in the evening I had some wine and, well, we survived, basically.
The next day was my 27th birthday (OH GOD WHY HOW AM I SO OLD) and we trundled up north to visit my parents. The week was spent mostly drinking and eating, which frankly I am all in favour of. We went back to our old stomping ground in Southport, and drank far too much beer and cider, and had a barbeque, and tried to relax. Although! Do not go to a pub! On A-Level results night! I feel SO OLD! Also neither Matt or I could remember what we'd done on the same night, which is a little concerning. "I mean, I know I lost my virginity at the END of the night, but between about 7pm and midnight it a little blurry?" yeah I'm classy.
Of course, this was taking into account my neighbour's driveway builder, WHO I KNEW FROM MY OLD WORK. I know him because he refers to all women as 'babe' and I once flipped and howled "MY NAME IS COLLEEN ACTUALLY" and on a hot day he once came in without a shirt on and pasty crumbs in his chest hair. OMG ARGH WHAT I NEVER WANTED TO SEE HIM AGAIN.
However, we had gone to Ormskirk for such a long stint in order to go to another wedding, this time for Adam and Jess. It was also a lovely, lovely wedding, this time in Southport registry offices (which I used to live 5 minutes away from). It ran slightly late as the wedding before had a guest have a heart attack half way through (!) but still seemed to go okay. Jess wore a beautiful 1950s dress and somewhat predictably I also cried. The reception was in Aughton Village Hall (which I also lived five minutes away from) and was really lovely. They'd done the venue up themselves, entirely homemade, and as Adam is a chef he'd done the prep for the food. Also, free booze! ALL DAY! Oh god. I must confess it was slightly less to my taste than Claire and George's, but I still had a good time. Jess and I had a mad bonding session of "BUT I KNEW YOU WHEN I WAS THREE AND NOW WE ARE BOTH MARRIED WHAT". Matt came along later and we nabbed a lift home with his mum.
Exhausted, I was taking my make-up off and Richie and gone to bed when I realised that my parents were still out. I knew they'd been out to the neighbours for Apology Curry due to the ongoing driveway works, and it was about this point my mum stumbled back, demanding beer. "Er, okay," I said, and put on my shoes and took some over. This is all literally via a missing panel in the fence in the back garden, you must understand. "COLLEEN! OR POSSIBLY MEGAN! HAVE SOME WINE!" my neighbour insisted. I really didn't want to, but very drunken neighbours plus parents plus my lack of sobriety meant it didn't happen. Dad even went and got Richie, which Richie privately informs me was SUPER WEIRD.
... anyway, I got home at about 4am. UGH.
The next day was a hangover, put it that way.
And on Monday, it was back to London. It was... really nice to visit the north again, as well as mega cheap. I do miss it sometimes, particularly when the area around my work is TOURIST CENTRAL and so help me GET OUT OF MY PUBS. But I do also very, very much like being in London, I hasten to point out.
Anyway. I have now been back to work for three days and my period has FINALLY FUCKING TURNED UP. I'm mostly torn between going "yay! menstrual cycle! no more peeing on sticks for me!" and "ARGH I HAVEN'T DONE THIS AU NATUREL FOR YEARS IS IT MEANT TO HURT THIS MONTH". This weekend Mary is coming to stay, and next week I enrol in college and am officially a student again. That's good, right?
