We are getting married on Saturday – at 2.30pm in case you’re interested.
Downstairs, there are forty something Order of Services to be bound and decorated with pink stripe ribbon; there are about twenty serviettes left to be rolled and wrapped in raffia, the delicately hand written heart wood pieces to be attached.
Boyfriend and I are finally listing the songs that will make it onto the playlist. We decided to ‘go personal’ and ask for three songs from each guest, and add a selection of our own choices. This equates to nearly seven hours of music. We only need music for three and a half. Editing is required.
Seating is still to be finalised. I still have to subtly find out the surname of a close friend’s boyfriend (without giving away that I have completely forgotten it despite her telling me only a few weeks ago), and I also need to find out whether another friend is bringing a husband or a mother.
We still have to buy the wine for the reception. My eyebrows are in dire need of some hot wax attention. Suitcases are to be filled with honeymoon clothes. Mum still has to buy flowers, the bridesmaid’s owed money and my bridal hairstyle –as yet unarranged – is likely to be a slightly back combed and sprayed version of my normal hair.
Boyfriend has put the imitation Champions League Cup Trophy over his head.
I am upstairs having a Blue Moon. I think this is the best way.