So, last night our "family hairstylist" as she should rightly be known was at my house until ten o'clock coiffing and teasing the locks of my sister, aunties, and myself. Yes - Aunt Boy George went for the chop. And, as predicted, she hates it. She has vowed that she will not be going to the wedding (she will) and that she hates us all for making her do it (she does.) Her fancy gown is meant to be arriving today, so let's hope that it does and that it looks good on her for Chrissake!
The wedding is proving a massive headache for me and the Boyf, as we are trying to arrange it around a trip to France. We have option one: run away to France for two weeks and forget about the hassle of work, family dramas, deadlines, etc. and pay Yank £100 for the pleasure of not going. Or option two: go and hide in France for one week, curse ourselves for having to come back for Yank's wedding, drive the length of the country upon return, carpool everyone up to Scotland, blow an absolute fortune, possibly engage in some sort of dramatic confrontation/cry in my room because of Judas, then go back to work early.
Hmmmm, what would Jesus do?
Can you tell which one I'm leaning towards? It's actually not as easy as I'm making it sound. Despite my reservations about all family gatherings involving... well, my family, I would quite like to go and see Yank and Li get married, and it'd be cool to go to Gretna. But I would much rather go skipping merrily to our little French retreat and have the Boyf all to myself for a while. If I was particularly close to Yank and Li - the way I once was - then I wouldn't even be thinking about not going. If MJ got married for example, there's no way in the world I would miss it and I would probably cry a Loch at the ceremony.
Over the weekend I watched quite a few soppy films (The Family Stone, Just Like Heaven, Elizabethtown - chick flick marathon ahoy!) and all I kept seeing was this message about family family family, how important it is and how beautiful and yeuch, all that sort of thing. I would love to feel like that about my family. I like the idea of belonging to a big family, but I do belong to a big family and I'm only close to about four people in it. I know it was prompted by Hollywood saccharine overkill, but it was maybe the first time I'd thought about having my own family and nurturing something to be different from what I've grown up in. Although this is quite hilarious to me: the first time I even consider the possibility of any kind of joy coming from having children, the vision I see is not of a young family but a mature one, with grown up offspring and zero responsibility :P
The Family Stone is totally worth a look by the way, if only for the cringiest meet the parents moment in the world (not to mention SJP, Rachel McAdams, Luke Wilson, I could go on!)
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2 comments:
I really think I would go to France. I just would. Tell them you couldn't back out of the trip without losing money. Tell them you had it planned way before you knew about their wedding. Tell them anything, but go to France.
Heather, you gorgeous little minx, I like the way you think! x
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