It's not been a great week. It started off promisingly, really promisingly in fact. My sister organised an AMAZING hen party. As someone that swore they never wanted a hen party, who found the very concept of hens naff, this was quite a U-turn, and, many would argue, another example of my indecisiveness. At 3am on Sunday morning I found myself on Faces nightclub dancefloor in Essex, at my own The Only Way Is Essex-themed hen, with a huge hairstyle somewhere between Cheryl Cole and Barry Gibb, and a sash emblazoned with TOWIE Mark Wright's torso. And although (regrettably) none of the party managed to cop off with Antony Costa or Peter Crouch, a great night was had by all.
But after this high (and what a high), things when horribly wrong. I managed to contract a feverish stomach bug, which led me to sleep near to 72 hours straight. Although it's been wonderful to catch up on some zzzzzz, it's meant that wedding plans have been hindered somewhat. It's also meant that I've missed a TenPilates class, which, despite being the least sporty person in the world, has got me slightly addicted. Thanks to TenPilates I have made the groundbreaking discovery that I DO have muscles in my upper arms and, what's more, I can now stand up straight without looking like a Victorian child fearfully balancing a book on her head.
Somewhere in my hallucinatory and feverish state, our band cancelled on us. Bearing in mind all good wedding magazines advise couples to book up your musicians at least a decade in advance, this has been a bit of a blow. We booked the band back in November, and it wasn't an easy task. Anyone who has spent time perusing wedding band names will know that they are invariably a dreadful pun, involving comedic spelling and the odd number thrown in. Fat Garry and the Groovin8tors or something to that effect. So we were thrilled by the simplicity of our band's name, coupled the lack of ubiquitous balding head/ponytail combo and dodgy waistcoats. And they have also been super-organised from the start –professional, happy to give advice, phoning to check in about timings etc. Compared with several of our other wedding suppliers, they were the ones that had got it together.
But, we were informed, two of the band member got a better offer somewhere closer to their Brighton home, and we were no longer on their schedule. I won't go into the details, but we're hoping they can provide an alternative pronto. This is the thing I'm finding about weddings, there are so many different elements that it's impossible to keep control, and people let you down. It might be your special day, but it's just another work day for them and you have to learn to shrug things off.
Still, despite being well behind on things this week due to unreliable musicians and my own sickliness, it's not been all bad. We went through the service with our vicar, who is the mother of a childhood friend and a lovely, funny, and amazing woman. We'll be her first wedding so she's almost as excited as us. This is so refreshing – it's nice not to feel like another number on the marriage conveyor belt. It was also good to get a reminder that the wedding will be A-ok as long as Jon and I turn up, even if Fat Garry and his Groovin8tors don't...