The End Is Nigh
My sincerest apologies – particularly to those of you who have read more than a single fraught, migraine-inducing paragraph of my bitching, moaning and griping – for not blogging for a few weeks. The thing is, real life got in the way, mostly wedding planning, but also ‘proper’ work and my almost entirely fruitless attempts to write comedy for BBC Radio.
You see, I finally get married on Saturday.
And, despite my bitching, griping and moaning about all things wedding-y the last few weeks, I’m actually looking forward to it. Very much.
In fact, some of my main concerns about the wedding were the differences between myself (indifferent about a great many things, doesn’t watch ‘Big Brother’) and Mrs Dan-To-Be (cares a great deal about a lot of things that all look the same to me, watches ‘Big Brother’) and whether these differences would be exacerbated under the pressure of a wedding, forcing us apart. I can now appreciate why many couple split up in that ‘post-engagement but pre-wedding’ period of their lives.
Contrary to this, however, we’ve actually become a lot closer and more comfortable around each other during the process. We’ve had more of a laugh together, we’ve started to take less offence at things the other one has said and begun to appreciate more that neither of us are going to change as we may have expected them to earlier in our relationship. All in all, things have been more harmonious and, if there is any room for manoeuvre above ‘certainty’, I’m even more convinced we’re doing the right thing.
Everything is now pretty much in place. The vital things (bride turning up, the dress, venue booked, people getting fed) are confirmed and the only things left to organise are the ‘picking up of things’ on the correct days leading up to the event and our suppliers all being fit, well and, most importantly, present on the day.
Nice weather would be an awesome bonus and the (admittedly frequently wildly inaccurate) Met Office forecast tells us it’s going to be very nice but not so tropically humid that we vapourise in our attire. Besides, I think you lose your excess if there are bits of usher lining the jackets upon their return.
Everything is paid for and ready. And despite it costing more than we budgeted for, we have managed to do this without borrowing anything. I mean, we never really needed a deposit for a house anyway, did we?
‘Team Best Men’ are all itching to help out but, truth be told, there is not that much left for them to do. In a way, this is sort of disappointing to me but I’m sure they will all be more than vital to the smooth running of the day. We have some, ahem, ‘strong personalities’ with varying degrees of tact and curtness in the entourage who can be deployed independently (or tactically in teams) to deal with pretty much any sort of problematic person or situation. We also have our wedding planner on-site in extreme cases of things that need doing there and then.
Even the table plan is complete. I promise to go into infinitely more detail about this some other time. There is not enough room here to cater for the millions of words required to describe how stressful this particular bit was. Nor do I have the inclination to relive it until I have first forgotten about it on a really long, *long* holiday.
And I’m completely calm. I’m not nervous at all. Which is bizarre, as I am literally nervous about everything in the whole world: finding a new place, finding a place the second time (I never get lost the first time but *always* on the second visit), meeting people, going to work after being off sick or on holiday. But for this, I’m not even nervous about my speech. I thought I would be especially nervous about the speech – particularly as I haven’t written it yet. To be honest, I get off pretty lightly – say something nice about Mrs Dan, thank everyone involved and then, sit back, whilst Mr Dan’s-Best-Man makes everyone laugh. I’m aware I’m merely the warm-up guy to this main headliner. Go on – make everyone laugh, dancing monkey boy!
Don’t worry, if you’re interested, there is still plenty of my tale to tell. (If you’re not, then you’ll just have to lump it – I need the therapy.) Particularly the various ‘surprise’ aspects of the wedding that I am unable to divulge under pain of death. All will be revealed when I return from our honeymoon.
Via a number of additional bitches, gripes and moans, of course.
Eyup, better go. Here comes the bride…
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