We had our early night on Saturday but it didn't mean we slept at all. My chest was tight and I had a tickly and deeply irritating cough, Melissa was on the train to Itch Town all night. She tossed and turned and adjusted and readjusted the duvet so many times I expected to wake to a giant origami swan made out of duvet. I didn't though.
We left the house at I think 7am, head to the in-laws to shower and change. We had to be at the "church" at 10am. This photo was taken at 9:43am. The "church" was a 35 minute drive away.
We were late. Fortunately, the florist was late too and the first ceremony didn't start until after 11am
By the way, we went to a wedding yesterday. Melissa's cousin Neil's wedding, to be precise. There were two ceremonies, a civil service with a registrar and readings from the books of Robert Plant and Barry White. The groom came down the aisle to the traditional hymn "Shoot to Thrill" by AC/DC and the bride entered to Everything I Do (I Do It For You) by Canadian Bryan Adams. The bride, Puja, looked fabulous and the service was lovely.
After that we headed out into the lobby (the "church" was in fact The Crown Plaza hotel in Liverpool city centre, and very nice it was too) for brunch while the room was prepared for the traditional Indian ceremony. Brunch consisted of some excellent Indian grub as well as cheese and tomato butties for the unadventurous. There was a chick pea dhal which was the tits, but there was also the greatest lime pickle I've ever eaten.
Neil's brother, Andy took a bite of what he was told were "just potatoes" only to find that they were actually moderately spiced potato cakes. His eyes were watering and he almost spat it out.
Traditionally there is no meat to be eaten or alcohol to be drunk before like, 4pm or whatever. The alcohol thing was probably for the best.
After brunch everyone stood around chatting and admiring the fabulous array of saris while we waited for the Indian ceremony. A man, who's job it was was to just shout stuff throughout the day called us through to the same room as before, but it had been transformed, and now featured a mandap, which is like a covered alter where the wedding participants sat. Neil came in first and was formally accepted into Puja's family by her parents and then, Puja entered the room. She'd changed. Dramatically. She was wearing an incredible golden and jewelled sari. Then all sorts of stuff happened, chanting, burning stuff, anointing stuff, touching of feet, exchanging things. The priest was incredible. He explained every aspect of the ceremony as it went on, and even got us all to join in at some points. It took about two hours, but honestly time flew.
Afterwards we went back out to the lobby to find that the bar was open. I mean open as in serving alcohol, but I also mean open as in free. It was a free bar, ladies and gentlemen. After my third glass of Laurent Perrier rosé champagne I moved onto bottles of Peroni. Soon, canapés were being distributed. The Chinese tiger prawns were fucking incredible. Yes, I swore. If you'd had one, you'd know it was justified. My father in law even chased one of the servers down to get more. I've never seen him move so fast. Also noteworthy were the miniature shepherds pies. Teeny tiny mouthfuls of awesome.
The man shouted again a bit later, and we headed into the wedding room which had once again been transformed into a massive dining room. Speeches, by Neil and his best man who I think was called Jamie were both very good. By this point I was on red wine. Melissa I think was on Coca Cola, or something. I was pissed. I've no idea. The meal was curry, somewhat unsurprisingly, and it was delicious. I had, I think, chicken makhani but there was quite a bit to chose from. I always go for chicken. It's probably my favourite meat.
I don't really remember the desserts, but tea was served at like 9pm, so by that point I'd already been drinking for about 5 hours and had definitely polished off a bottle of wine before moving onto the Glenmorangie 10 year old single malt. There was no measures, just a lots of "saying when". I only had one Glenmorangie, but it was a little under half a pint, poured over ice. It was ace.
It was about 11pm when Melissa suggested it was time to go home. It was about 11:01pm when uncle Art suggested there was time for "one more drink" so I headed to the bar and came back with half a pint of Jack Daniel's. I drank that rather quickly as I could see my pregnant, itchy, tired wife was getting tireder, itchier and pregnanter.
I have no recollection of taking this photo, but there we are, 11:30ish is when we left. Melissa drove home and I didn't pass out, but instead put Nathaniel Rateliff on and slurred along with that in between chatting to Mel.
When we got home, I somehow cleaned the cats litter out and volunteered to sleep in the spare bed, as I stank of alcohol and garlic. And I also tend to snore when I'm twatted. Considerate husband, me. From the spare bedroom Melissa could smell neither the alcohol nor the garlic, but she could hear what she has described as "the worst snoring ever" from wherever she was in the house, be it in bed, or downstairs throwing up. Turns out Indian food disagrees with her digestive system.
I woke up at like, 8:15am when the little cat mewwed in my face and could hear Melissa tossing and turning. I think she had an alright sleep, in between vomiting and itching.
At about 9am we headed up to the in laws for breakfast. Cooked, full English. Awesome. We then showered and headed into Aintree to buy some paint and cat litter. We were home just after 1pm, I'm amazed we've accomplished what we have, given the state I was in when I woke up. I don't remember leaving our house this morning, I think I was still drunk. Messy.
Melissa has been to her midwife this afternoon who said there was nothing more that could be done about her rash, which is a shame. She's watching True Blood at the moment, I'll join her soon to watch TV and eat crisps. This evening I'm sure what we're doing, but I know I want another shower before bed tonight and work tomorrow.
See you!
