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Emily Joyce: Being a wedding crasher proves strangely addictive

Monday

AM. Owen still away on business and Bessie Mate Fiona busy having a shagathon with some new bloke that she met last weekend. So have been dreaming up ways to amuse myself. Spent the whole weekend at wedding fairs doing research. Cost feckin' 20 quid entry fee and a fiver for parking. Like hello! Why am I paying for the privilege of listening to a load of people plugging their services? It's like forking out for the Golden Pages. Wanted to scream at them: "This is supposed to be for my convenience, not yours!" Anyway, made sure to get plenty of wedding cake samples and also collected a demo CD from every church singer and crappy band going, so at least I got some return on my investment.

PM. Spent the morning perusing my extensive collection of potential wedding singers. Ooh, the power! I feel just like Simon Cowell: "Yes, your Ave Maria was okay, but a bit cruise ship... then you completely blew it with your Panis Angelicus."

Tuesday

AM. Have been ringing round all the singers. Have been invited to a wedding this evening to check out a Proclaimers tribute band.

PM. Just back. Must admit, felt a bit rude being an uninvited guest at a wedding. Tried to hide in a corner but could see people looking at me strangely. I felt a lot more relaxed after a cheeky glass of Champagne.

Wednesday

AM. Yet another band has invited me to see them in action. It'd be good to hear them for research purposes, but I actually think even I am too morto to gatecrash another wedding.

PM. Phew, Heather has kindly agreed to go with me tonight. She reckons if we dress weddingy enough then we'll be less conspicuous. To do: dust fancy hat.

Thursday

AM. Great wedding last night. After a shaky start most people assumed that we were part of the wedding party. Heather even got an extra comfy chair brought out to her for being pregnant. Had three glasses of Champers and danced with Old Uncle Ron to Come On Eileen. Woo hoo! Leaving work early for a manicure before we head to another do tonight.

Friday

AM. Bloody wrecked. Arrived early at the wedding and heard on the grapevine that the bride's lesbian cousin and her partner had missed their flight, so we nabbed their seats. Stingy Happy Couple had tea and coffee instead of a Champagne reception and the bloody prawn cocktail was a nightmare. Also, it seems Heather made the right choice with the bonoffi while I was stuck with an icky pavlova. Note to all pastry chefs: pavlova should be soft and marshmallowy in the middle, not hard and crisp, but top marks for the strawberry coulis.

PM. Had a call from Owen to say he'll be home tomorrow and can I pick him up from the airport. Told him to get a taxi as had a Z-list celeb wedding on at the Ritz. Apparently, they have an ABBA tribute band and their 'Benny' has a real beard. I'm there!

Keep up with Emily's week on emilyjoycediary.wordpress.com


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