NEXT week I’m flying to Cork for a wedding.
Hey you guys, relax.
I hear your collective screams of anguish, but listen up: it’s not my own wedding. I don’t have any plans to get married, so your dream of being my first husband can remain alive for now.
Be warned, I’m pretty fussy, but if you are over 5 foot tall, if you can drive and if you’re happy to eat any sultanas I pick out of banana bread (and you think it’s a travesty that they’re in there in the first place) you’re totally in with a shot.
It’s the wedding of two good friends. I’m happy for them, truly. I’m glad they like each other enough to rent a function room in a hotel and cram their parents’ friends into it for one long night of club anthems. I’m pleased they thought of me to help them celebrate — but I’m not great at social events.
Once I was discovered by my sister pretending to queue for the toilet just to avoid small talk. You see, I tend to go in too deep with it. ‘How am I? Well, my invisible bra straps are digging into my shoulders but the main thing I’m worried about is money — I have no savings and a lot of debt, you?’
The main thing irking me, if I’m honest, is the hassle. I don’t feel like packing a bag, getting a train, a bus, an airplane and a taxi on both sides of the water. When discussing how close Ireland and England are, everyone clings to the mantra ‘We’re only an hour away’. So how come I leave my house in London at 8am and don’t get to where I’m going in Ireland until 3pm?
Anyway, I’m trying to be positive — whenever I catch myself trying to figure out a way out of it, here are the things I tell myself: That it will be great to see everyone — as far as I know, none of my enemies are going; that the food will be fine — who doesn’t love the predictability of a chicken caesar salad starter and a salmon main?
Also, I keep thinking about those video messages people send when they can’t make it — the ones that give really good excuses.
‘Hey guys, sorry we couldn’t make it but Veronica’s new litter of Labradoodles all got croup out here in Perth, so we had to stick around. Cheers!’ or ‘Congratulations you two crazy kids, I’d love to join you but am serving 8-10 for grievous bodily harm and because I’ve been keeping up my violent streak while inside, there was no chance of parole.’
How could I compete with that?
All I’ve got is ‘I looked into flights but they were from Luton and I don’t know where that is, sorry. Also, it’s just so warm and weddings aren’t really my thing. Really hope you’re having a fun day. Bye!’ I would never get away with that, would I?