OK. We have normality.
Sort of.

Only just recovering from being involved in two weddings back-to-back.

But I’m glad that stress is over.

First up was a double-first cousin’s up north.
Then it was the Sister-in-Law’s.

I acted as a general dog’s body for the sis-in-law’s wedding, which included designing and printing the invites, designing the seating plan, organizing and splicing the music (when everyone else was having fun on the eve, drinking beer), getting DVDs to work, transporting alcohol to the venue, driving the bridal party BMW, getting two little flower girls ready, taking photos, computer technician…
And stuff.

I did get a big thank you though.

Getting the girls ready was the hardest. Lil’ Ginge had gone and drawn all over herself with felt tip pen just before the second wedding and I had to scrub layers of her skin off to remove it.

Ack.
There was actually more stress than it sounds, but I really don’t feel like detailing it.

There was a funny bit though when we were driving over the harbour bridge and were making such good time that we started passing people who were on the way to the church. I freaked them out by pulling along side them, so they could see us, and then shouting out the window that they’d better hurry up, cos we were going to beat them there.

Then we pulled off and went to the beach for half an hour to kill some time.

The SIL’s wedding went well though.

It was an interesting mix of people… more friends than family. Among the attendees were a drug dealer, and a whore.

I presume the dealer was dealing. He was, at the stag do.

The prostitute wasn’t hooking as far as I could tell though. She seemed like a very nice person. Especially when she kissed that other chick…

Oh, and I discovered that if you get roped into dancing to Barry White, and you don’t happen to like dancing to Barry White, just tell the person you’re dancing with that you don’t like Barry White and that you’ve even gone so far as to have written a song about the fact that listening to Barry White makes your penis go soft.

(I haven’t actually written that song yet. It’s a work in progress.)

I must have gotten real drunk though, because then the DJ put on some of that technological music, which I hate, but I was up there dancing to it, so I must have been drunk, but then I must have danced myself sober, because I remember suddenly thinking that, hey, what the fuck am I doing dancing to this crap…?

And they lived happily ever after.