Here comes the bride: Part II

I hate weddings. I always have done.

When most little girls dreamed of swanning around wearing a white froufy dress and being princess for a day, I dreamed of being an intergalactic space explorer saving the universe and battling the bad guys. When I was younger it wasn't so much that I felt hate toward weddings as I was just utterly oblivious. Weddings were those weird things that adults did to justify wearing expensive dresses while they got drunk. They had nothing to do with me, I had nothing to do with them, and everyone was happy that way.

Unfortunately when I became a teenager I could no longer escape the Nuptial Nightmare. I learned to play the flute in high school and, unfortunately for me, was quite good. I played the flute during communion at my church on Sundays and, inevitably, eventually I was asked to perform at a wedding. The wedding itself wasn't that bad. I did my bit, everyone else did their bit, and I got paid. The problem was that the bride and groom were too nice. To show their appreciation I was invited to the reception. I can see now that their invitation was purely for good manners, that I could have politely declined and no-one would have been offended and they would have saved the cost of the plate. As it was I thought I would be expected to go to the reception, so I went. I knew no-one there. I was 14 and painfully shy. I was stuck there until nearly midnight with complete strangers and completely sober (obviously, given my age). I think that was the biggest influence on my feelings about weddings. Pretty, but boring as hell with lots of horrible long speeches. I went on to perform at quite a few weddings after that, hating every minute but at least being sensible enough to decline any invitations to the reception unless I knew the bride or groom personally. Having seen so many weddings from behind the scenes over the years has stripped them of any possible glamour and their excitement. Rather than seeing princesses and happily-ever-afters all I see frustration and a level of organisation that rivals herding cats. Herding cats suffering from ADHD at that. In fact, herding cats suffering from ADHD, wearing a blind-fold, while trying to squeeze them all into tiny little tuxedos.

I've been to quite a few weddings of family and friends and don't get me wrong, I've enjoyed every one of them - once I settle down, have a few drinks and stop hyperventilating about the fact that I'm at a wedding. It's almost like a phobia. Imagine a great big spider holding a bouquet and that's how I see weddings.

And now, somehow, I've got myself engaged. Dear Sweet Darling (DSD) and I have been happily living in sin, and would be happy to continue to do so, but I've been told the Relationship Register is actively encouraging heterosexual couples to sign - hoping to give it more legitimacy among areas of the community that are opposed to anything that seems like gay marriage. So for us it's not a matter of declaring our love to the community (stuff the community, we know we're in love and that's all that matters), it's about making a political statement. And for Mr. Marxist and little Miss Opinionated, that's even better than a honeymoon.

Now we just have to figure out what the hell to do for our 'wedding'. So far I only have two demands: half a valium and no flute playing.