Yes, we were invited to a medieval themed wedding and yes, I dressed up, there are photos, I may post one, let’s be honest, I probably won’t though. Friends of ours who were going emailed back and forth with various suggestions for costumes, most bought them off fancy dress websites, I however, who apparently believe that everything should be about me, including and especially weddings, hired a dress from Birmingham Repertory Theatre costume department. I think my favourite part of the whole wedding was going to the warehouse that stores all these fabulous costumes and trying on different elaborate dresses. I chose one which I thought befitted the occasion without making me look like I had a large sign over my head reading “LOOK AT ME! ISN’T MY COSTUME AWESOME?!!”, It was long, and medieval, and made me look pregnant, which I resented.
In the morning though, well, there was an incident, there was a throwing incident, involving me, Glenn, the small vicinity of my car and the satnav. I threw the satnav, it hit him on the arm, his arm produced an angry lump and he passed out. There was sweating (him) and crying (me) and me driving to A&E slapping him on the leg and screaming “stay with me Glenn!” while his head lolled about on his chest. We thought up a convincing story to tell the nice people in the hospital so that I didn’t get arrested for assault but then when the Dr looked at Glenn’s arm and then at me I shouted “I THREW THE SATNAV AT HIM!” because I was nothing if not willing to accept all and every punishment, anyway the Dr looked back at Glenn’s arm, stroked it lovingly for a little while, bent some fingers, looked back at me and said “was it a tomtom?” I stared at the floor, insides melting and mumbled “mm hmm”, he says “I see…. Well it’s not broken, I’m not going to x-ray it, I think you’ll be ok”, Glenn requested a MacDonalds, and life went back to normal.
The wedding was awesome, there was a barn filled with fairy lights, a marquee, a band, karaoke, a bouncy castle and a bucking bronco. During the country dancing, the lady who was leading the dancing said into the microphone “is there a Hannah Davis in the room?”, Glenn held up my hand as I looked very confused, lady says “ladies and gentlemen, we have the regional champion in our midst!”, there is clapping, I am even more confused, as the only dancing competition I ever won was at first school when I was 9 (there was admittedly that ‘dance like Michael Jackson’ competition that I won at a campsite in Portsmouth when I was 6 but in the current climate I’m not sure I should mention that), Glenn smiles in a sneaky way, I think that makes us even.
All I’m going to say about the camping, is it is unpleasant and I will not be doing it again, the music in the barn carried on until 6am, at one point a friend wandered back up to the barn to see what was going on as none of us could sleep, only to find the music screaming out of the mobile DJ unit and one man asleep on a hay bale. Next time anyone invites us to something that involves camping I am going to hire some motorised caravan type thing, with walls, a nice mattress and a toilet.
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