17 days to go: A Stag Stumbles

The other one is svelte

It wouldn’t be a stag do if nobody got injured – and I mean more than the battering taken by our livers.

At last night’s choir Andy hobbled in and revealed that, having eschewed the sensible taxi in favour of more shenanagins on Saturday night, he was then required to walk back to Banbury Farm. But, being a towny, he hadn’t factored in that it would be dark – pitch black, in fact. And that’s when accidents occur. See image of what happens when you’re inebriated and fall into a pothole. There is also a vague memory of taking a nap in a hedge for a while. Unsubstantiated.

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22.5 days to go: Last orders, please

It’s my stag do this weekend. A tremendous job by the BM Steve to organise, communicate, chivvy and chase, ably abetted by the FBIL Ferg. Looking forward to it and I’m honoured by the number of guys who can make it. Either that or lots of them are feeling the same as Chris B said to me this afternoon: “I’m really quite excited – I mean, I don’t often have big weekends where you do things like this any more.”

Fi’s hen do last weekend was a cracker, by the sounds of it.

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She came back elated and overflowing with the love her friends had poured out. The master-stroke was the board-games theme and the excellent work put in to create “Fiopoly… or Fiona and the Ginger Ring”. That plus the imported follicle extensions… good work ladies. I’m sure that the chaps have put equal creative thought into, er, how many pints they’re going to buy. which is nice.

Last time for everything: It’s when you’re in the run up to something that you start counting the time left. 12 more sleeps ’till we go on holiday, christmas eve eve, the last time i’ll go to the office before i’m made redundant, the last time i can go to the loo before I have to sit through yet more interminable warbling from the soprano oh why oh why did i ever agree to come to the opera i hate the opera, etc … you know the kind of thing.

I’ve not been getting any of these realisations, but I can feel they’re coming. Fi, on the other hand told me she has. So, over dinner, I asked “what kind of things?” “Well,” she says, “like just the other day I thought, that’s the last time I’m going to have my bikini-line waxed cut as a single woman.”.

No, not what I had expected either.

In other news, my dreams are getting weirder. Yesterday’s was a mishmash of inappropriate and embarrassing sexual relations, the problematic launch of a google product (why specifically a google product, i have no idea) and dealing with the fact that I was terminally ill. Other than that, it was a perfectly pleasant night’s sleep. I blame it on the copious amount of parmesan I had eaten before bed. cheesedreams rock.

Also, met the photographers on Tuesday – and they’re cool. The best thing  – AND THIS IS FOR ALL YOU GUESTS – they don’t want to be standing around so they’re more than happy to be taking family portraits or pictures of couples during the evening. It’s all digital, naturally, so getting good shots is what they’re about, and Susie and Harley wanted us to actively encourage you to go up and ask them.  We get a copy of everything they do whatever happens and however many pics there are – so if you’ve ever fancied having a serious professional (and usually advertising/fashion) photographer take a snap of you, dive in.

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And finally, never mind the photographer, there’s a futurologist in the family, and an artistic talent, to boot. I’m so impressed with Stella FNIL (5)’s vision of what the wedding will look like – I particularly like the attention to detail of the high heels and hair lengths, and I’m now seriously thinking about a bow-tie and two-tone blue suit.

T -40 days: Reasons to be worried?

Reason 1: The FMA has a near-encyclopaedic knowledge of Big Brother (the early series) and random 80s pop. So much so that she spent aimed of Friday night competing with old uni friend Sang (and those who know Sang know that’s a feat). It’s a daunting and worrying trait.

Reason 2: The FMA has never seen a Lethal Weapon, Rambo, Die Hard and only one of the Indiana Jones films. I shall stop there to save her blushes. I ask you, is that natural? Eh? I mean, what was she doing? Reading books??

Reason 3: As shown by last week’s experience at the marriage preparation session, we are supposed to be panicking by now. I am supposed to be getting nervous, planning is supposed to be stressful and the FMA is supposed to be obsessing about the bridesmaids ribbons matching the ushers’ retinas. None of this is happening. Yet. Last week’s key milestones included booking the honeymoon hotel (the Kristiania in Lech in Austria) and I seem to have been signed off not only by the Papacy but by the Islingtonacy as well. Bureaucracy? Shmureacracy.

Reason 4: Stag do. Seems like plans are coming together nicely. Steve the BM is at the helm with Ferg FBIL providing excellent support. However it’s not the organisation I’m worried about. It’s the possibility that there may be a barbers in Charlbury. I may have to bribe them to go away for the weekend.

Perhaps I speak to soon – perhaps it is still to come. Perhaps I *should* be worried.