Yesterday was the loveliest afternoon. It started out with lunch, tea, girlie gossip and cakes that looked as delicious as they tasted at Brewhaha on the ground floor of Buchanan Galleries. We then decamped to Boudiche to investigate potential bridal lingerie; and the girls there flattered us, fitted us and kept us topped up with champagne and chocolate as we explored an endless array of pretties while wandering around the boutique in dressing gowns. It’s an experience I’d thoroughly recommend if you’re getting married yourself, or are just looking for a special treat.
For the first time, I really felt like I was going to be a bride.
Despite my many moans about money worries and headaches, don’t think I don’t know that I am very blessed at being able to call some of the most incredible women I have ever met my friends. They’re smart, gorgeous, talented and adept at finding sneaky ways to buy you lunch or drinks before you realise that’s what they are doing. We’ve spent our formative years together, sharing laughter and tears and pitchers of dubious cocktail. Yesterday, Bobby and the Blonde and I joked about how, five years ago, we’d never have seen this coming: taking afternoon tea and chatting about weddings. But I think, in a way, we did – our lives have changed in ways we could never have imagined, but I have never been more certain that it will be the same faces I’ll be cackling away with in the nursing home shocking the young’uns with our tattoos and our tales of that one night in that one club.
And you know, a whole bunch of the time we would never have met if it hadn’t been for LiveJournal or whatever. The other week, at Miss America’s wedding, somebody asked how we had met and I did the usual looking at the floor and wondering what the other person was going to think before I muttered “the internet”. “That’s cool!” was the exclamation. “It must have been one heck of a blog comment!” And I thought, you know what? It really is. Here I am at the wedding of somebody I really love, who a year ago was just a screenname, and that’s a really fricking big deal.
Be they in Harthill or Heswall, Maidenhead or Melbourne, I wouldn’t be the person I am today without a kickass posse behind me. I just hope they all know how much I appreciate that.
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