And we’re done! After eight weeks in a row of weddings and hens’ and bucks’ parties, ManFriend and I can spend next Saturday doing whatever the hell we want. Don’t get me wrong – the weddings and parties have been lovely and I’ve loved celebrating love with my friends. There’s just been a lot of them in a row.
I wore my favourite colour combination, red and teal:
Yes, I know it looks blue in this photo, but the top is teal. I got many compliments on my colour-blocking, which just goes to show that even when you don’t follow fashion, eventually you’ll be in fashion – if only for a season.
ManFriend and I had a late lunch of ham sandwiches, which seemed like a good idea at the time. After all, in what kind of crazy world are ham sandwiches not a good idea?
But soon after I began to feel green.
Lunch was not going to stay down.
Now, I don’t know about you, but vomiting on command is not a skill I have. So I skulled 1.5 litres of water in the hope that it would make me spew.
It didn’t. (And meant I spent the ceremony jiggling my legs.)
So I tried sticking my toothbrush down my throat, because that’s what they do in movies and books, right? I retched, but still nothing. Unless you count pulling the muscles under my chin and in my neck. Which is remarkably painful. (Thanks to the wonderful Lorana for getting ibuprofen for the pulled-muscle-induced cracking headache.)
We were running out of time and I wasn’t going to vomit, so I got dressed and started doing my make-up.
Then I stopped.
It wasn’t my mouth that it was going to come out of.
I took off my wedding clothes – you never know how explosive these things are going to be – and went into the bathroom.
I won’t describe the next bit, but it wasn’t as bad as expected. Which was quite a relief. Ha, nice pun!
Then I put my wedding clothes back on, did my hair, and finished putting on my face. And then knocked the lipstick out of my hand.
It bounced down my top and skirt in big red smears.
We dabbed at it with make-up remover.
ManFriend raced to the shop to see if they had glycerine or dry cleaning fluid (according to Shannon Lush and Jennifer Fleming in Spotless).
If I was in a Judd Apatow film, I’d have accidentally released a sex tape on the internet by now.
Aha! said ManFriend.
I can fix this.
The shirt has pussy bow-ish ties, so with some discreet safety-pinning of the ties off to the side, we covered the lipstick, hoped no one would notice it on the skirt, and jumped in a taxi.
Why do I tell you guys this stuff?