So then. Two weeks.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.
"You must have everything sorted out now then," says everyone.
"Oh yes, everything's sorted out," I say, while a montage flashes through my head of the disco lights and the security deposit and the extra buttonholes and the beer kegs and the seating plan and the mini-cabs and the wine glasses and all the other things we haven't sorted out.
Then there are the vows.
Several months ago, sitting in a brightly lit room in Lewisham registry office, the idea of writing our own vows seemed bold and romantic. Now it just seems difficult and stupid.
I turned to our friends for inspiration. Jon F suggested I begin with, "I made it through the wilderness; somehow I made it through," to which Pete could respond, "Didn't know how lost I was until I found you."
Barnes came up with the idea of me saying the following to Pete while he stands with his back to me, arms folded: "Salt and Pepa's hit, and we're in effect. Want you to push it, babe. Coolin' by day, then at night working up a sweat. Come on girls, let's show the guys that we know how to become number one in a hot body show. Now push it."
Then, suggested Barnes, Pete could jump round to face me and I could jump round so my back was turned to him, with my arms crossed, "perhaps nodding to the beat". Pete would pledge his undying love and commitment to me by reciting, "Yo, yo, yo, yo, baby-pop, yeah, you come here, gimme a kiss. Better make it fast or else I'm gonna get pissed. Can't you hear the music's pumpin' hard like I wish you would? Now push it."
Does anyone have any other suggestions?
Saturday, 10 July 2010
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