So, I haven't written for a while for a couple of reasons. Last weekend was Jenny and Rob's wedding, so that kept me pretty busy for a few days.
In true Jenny style, the celebrations spanned over 3 days. Thursday night was the rehearsal and the rehearsal dinner. The wedding was held at Lady Chapel at Westminster Abbey so was quite some affair! Luckily I'd been to visit the Abbey with Rob the week before, so, as the only bridesmaid present at the time, I could concentrate on the rehearsal, not the architecture! It's an amazing building, so huge, so ornate, so awe-inspiring. We went in at the end of evensong, so we got to see the choir filing out (there must have been a good 30 - 40 choir boys) and the peculiar spectacle of career clergymen in effectively one of the most important religious buildings in the capital. I can't help wondering what their lives are like. The rehearsal was deeply bizarre, going through the motions while in your everyday clothes. Much fun though. This was followed by the rehearsal dinner, at a v. posh (well, to me, what did I know of what was to follow?!) restaurant called Bistro 51. Something tells me that the '51' didn't mean that the restaurant had gone bankrupt a few times and reopened under a slightly different name (fans of Oxford's very own Wok 23 and it's previous incarnations Wok 21 and Wok 22 take note). The champagne was flowing, which certainly helps you get on better terms with other people's family members. Combined with silent waiters topping up your wine glass every time you looked away and a near epic tube/train/bus/walk journey home, I was very glad that I had the next day off work
Friday dawned particularly grey and showery, but I made the most of a precious day off with a trip into Putney for weekend essentials - wedding card, suitably bridesmaid-y underwear and the final renewal of my young persons railcard (sob!). Finally made it to Stash Yarns in Putney to buy some realy cool yarn, think I'm making my sisters gloves for Xmas! Was ridiculously nervous about going to the Lansdowne Club, where we were all staying on Friday night and where the reception was being held. I guess it's ok to feel like a fish out of water as a 25 year old girl in an ancient gentleman's club...I got there much earlier than the rest of the wedding party, so I finally made a trip to COS on Regent Street. Wow, I'm going to have to avoid that place...After that, I met Jenny and her family, dranak gin and tonics in the bar, and all was well with the world again. Surprised myself by getting on very well with all the respective grandparents present, a bonding experience increased by getting them all across London on the tube to Mongolian Barbecue for dinner. Was actually really good fun, wonder if it would feel the same if I had all my relatives in one place...? Incredibly knackering though, so once we had negotiated all of the grandparents and elderley friends back to the hotel, we were ready for an early night.
Saturday was, well, unlike any other day that I have ever known. From sitting by myself in the breakfast room (chanelling every 1940's scene of a lady 'breakfasting alone'), to having my hair and make up done (I could get used to that), to quite alot of sitting around (the wedding wasn't til 4.30pm) and having our photos taken pretty solidly from 2pm by a roving team of photographers. It was pretty exciting really, and Jenny looked so amazing. We bridesmaids didn't look too bad either. We travelled to the church in a routemaster bus (the tourists had a field day) and Jenny arrived pretty early, so we had more photos taken before the whole thing kicked off. I actually got quite overcome in the church. Blimey, it's all so huge in there - size and symbolism. I don't think I would ever have the guts to do it. Was really great to see Mike aftwards, though only briefly as it was time for, you guessed it, more photos. The rest of the evening vanished into a bit of a haze where moments stand out - dinner at the top table between the bride and groom's fathers, speeches, champagne, the groom's dad asking me and the other bridesmaid 'how long do you give them?' (he meant til they have kids, but go figure, surely I'm not the only one who was shocked and thought he meant something else entirely!), scottish dancing that I had drunk way too much to do anything other than fall over during, falling on my arse twice while attempting to dance (this made me a bit grumpy, I learnt scottish dancing off my mum and I have scottish blood for heaven's sake), the cake being cut, eating the cake outside in the court yard with no shoes on (bliss, my bridesmaid shoes were sheerest agony, I nearly fell over with relief in the lift when I took them off)...then it was over, and it was time to go home.
It's a most odd feeling when the thing that you have been most looking forward to for 18 months is over and done with. I felt fraudulent feeling so depressed that it was over, it wasn't even my wedding! So, much to my shame, I cried, then and there, on my best friend who was so happy, and I feel bad for doing it. I guess that I just felt...so...left behind. I'm not ready to get married yet, but I wish I was. I'm worried that things will change so we can't be friends anymore. In a weird way, Jenny wasn't the Jenny I know and love that day. She was a girl in a great big dress, who was becoming someone else, rather than just changing her name. Maybe it's not really true, but I couldn't help feeling like everything we've been through before was getting left behind, that we won't ever be those two girls who used to share a love for too much alcohol and dancing to cheesy music at the Pav again.
Mike was great. He looked after me, and told me it wasn't silly (even though it was). The evening finished in a suitable way - we'd planned to get a taxi all the way home (seeing as another night in the hotel would be really expensive). But we weren't the only ones with that idea...so instead we got the bus from outside the Ritz. The joy of speeding through London on a night bus in a bridesmaids dress and flip flops...
My bouquet is still in a jam jar at home. The day after it almost hurt to look at it. A week on, not so much. I even ate my chocolate party favours the other night. It's ok to feel like this I think, it's a sign of how much I enjoyed being part of it. Now I just have to get my dress dry cleaned and find a cupboard that is big enough for it to hang in...
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I'm so excited at the prospect of a two week holiday, they're so much better than one week holidays. People are more likely to leave you alone and you usually only come back to the same number of emails as if you'd been away for one week. Famous last words...