So since I last wrote a few things have generally happened. Namely I appeared in one of Doug’s dreams as a zombie killer, I’ll let your brain run with that one. I’ve also done some things in reality. In this respect I think I’ve gone to Manchester to see E for the last time (hopefully in a long time) cos let’s face it there are only so many ways to pass 9 hours of train travel in a weekend. This is of course because I get to get on a train this Saturday, head down to Cambridge and empty a van / build ikea furniture.
Last weekend however was actually spent with purpose other than just the usual good boyfriend intentions. For Saturday was the wedding day of a certain Rebecca Underhill, one of E’s closest friends back from the second year of uni. Which meant a perilously early start to get from Manchester to Worcester, or rather to a hotel 45 mins outside of Worcester where the wedding reception was to be held and back into the centre of Worcester.
Needless to say the wedding was a very traditional Catholic wedding. And by that I mean it was more of an aerobic exercise class than anything. Stand up, sit down, stand up again, please be seated, stand for the sermon…. interrupted only for the occasional dirge. I mean really, supposed the happiest moment of the bride and groom’s lives and you really want to put on some horrendous pipe organ, 40 bpm number, that endless goes on about God’s almighty shaft. Forgive me whilst I giggle like a little girl to entertain myself.
Anyway, the reception was a much better affair. A champagne reception, that was abused to around the 6 glasses extent. Then we were sat for the speeches (with a pint of Guinness) which was lovely really as it was really a load of Biochemists from Nottingham with 2 plus ones (which were fine gents). A fine 3 course meal followed, accompanied with 3 large glasses of red. E felt the need to apologise and explain away why I didn’t touch the soup. Or rather I touched it and decided better for it. But my loathing of soup is a different story for a different day.
So post meal. Myself, Kev and Elwyn found some wing-back chairs next to the fire place and bar. Copious drinking ensued, which as I found out the next day was to the tune of around £50. I of course blame Dave (the owner of the hotel) for being such a bad influence and “making us” try all these different spirits, many of which we paid for, and Genie who was only egging Dave on (first night as a barmaid).
Needless to say the drive back in the following morning was not a pleasant experience, and really I was probably still drunk. The mistake was of course to drink at all. The opportunistic man/swine flu that I’ve been holding off for the last week/10 days, decided that a weakened immune system full of poison was a good time to attack. Effectively giving me a 48 hour hang over.
This meant that the prospect of sitting on a train for 4 1/2 hours seemed hardly appealing. Especially when the glorious folks at Network Rail had decided to once again close the line for repairs between Chesterfield and Nottingham for “essential repair”. Meaning a replacement bus service. Which the radio informed me has heavily over-subscribed and could take potentially add another 4 hours to the trip.
As a result, staying in Manchester for another night sounded like a bloody good idea. So instead 3 hours was spent in ikea inspecting various furniture for E’s new flat. In the end though I ended up spending money on 2 chairs, a fancy ergonomic one for the purposes of me being able to walk home after work and one easy chair for the purposes of films, again with the lumber support that my spine seems to be crying out for at the moment.
So anyway, I’ve returned to UEA for some absolutely cracking weather. And really after 2 hours of procrastination I should actually attempt some work. It’s a hard life….
This page previously appeared on morganbye.net[^1][^2]
[^1:] http://morganbye.net/2009/10/wedding-bells-and-living-hells) [^2:] http://morganbye.net/blog/?p=50
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