Nice Day for a White Wedding

I'm getting married in four and a half hours. I don't quite believe it, but it's true. If you've ever read Jellie's blog you'll know that I am her 'Perfect Cousin' and you can get some background to the whole wedding thing, because I appreciate you've been thrown into the deep end of the paddling pool without your armbands. I would give you the history myself, but I've got legs to shave, make-up to trowel on, last night's wine to throw up... you know how it is. Suffice to say I am marrying my Perfect Boyfriend, hereafter to be known as Him/He (I'm feeling creative with then names this morning - can't you tell?).

I'm slightly concerned that on today of all days I'm keeping a secret from Him - I'll share it with you though... I'm hungover. Rather than retiring to bed early with a cup of Horlicks and a good bridal magazine, I went out and got trollied with Jellie and various other bridesmaids, mates, drunkards etc. last night. So instead of waking up with a fresh faced bridal glow, I look more like my grandmother before she's put her slap on.

Still, that's what make up is for (and if worst comes to worst, I'll just comb my hair down to cover as much of my face as possible). Besides, no-one's going to be looking at my face, they'll just be transfixed by the enormity of my chest in the bloody dress. White! White I ask you! Who the hell ever looked good in white?! Not me, that's for damn sure.

Still...

Anyway, just read this back and realised how chronically little sense I'm making. I'm going to go and wash this hangover out of my hair. Or throw up again. Whichever seems the least effort at the time.

By the time you next see me, I shall be married. Well, unless He finally realises that I'm always going to be a neurotic drama queen and pulls out within the next four hours... I shall let you know.

Laters xx