Three More Poor Quality Sleeps

Just a few days to go now. How exciting! So exciting that I feel like jumping up and down, and waving my hands in the air, and spitting the little bit of sick that comes up at passers by.

I had several nightmares last night. In one, I dreamt that it was my wedding day and nothing was ready and it was a total fiasco. But it was all right, because then all my friends revealed they had played a hilarious practical joke on me, and the wedding wasn't for another four days!

In another, I dreamt that it was my wedding day and nothing was ready and it was a total fiasco. But it was all right, because then I woke up and realised it was just a dream, and the wedding wasn't for another four days! But then I realised the wedding is in another four days, and nothing is ready and it is a total fiasco!

I'm sure it will be fine. Despite the fact we haven't bought all the booze yet. Or anything to drink it out of. Or got enough high chairs. And the coach company's gone bust.

We haven't written our vows yet, either. Following endless arguments about whether to use quotes from Happy Gilmore or the lyrics to Angry Anderson's Suddenly, I have come up with a compromise - multiple choice vows.

For example:

"Do you promise to:

a) Love me forever and ever, till death do us part
b) Love me for about four years, then have an affair with someone at work
c) Love me for as long as it takes for you to realise you're gay"

We might just go with the wording supplied by Lewisham Council.

Take a Vow

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?

Sailor Jerrymandering

It's over.

Despite a valiant and inspired last-ditch attempt to secure sponsorship by Cat, the man from Sailor Jerry, he say...

From: Sailor Jerry PR Dept
Subject: Sailor Jerry - National Media Coverage

Hi Cat,

We really appreciate your email, thanks for getting in touch about this opportunity.

I'm not sure that this is quite right for Sailor Jerry, however we wish Ellie and Pete the best of luck for the future.

Best wishes

Sailor Jerry

I can't believe it. SEL-FISH. After all the free publicity Sailor Jerry has had on this blog, not to mention in Forest Hill Wetherspoon's when I stand up at 11.24pm on Friday nights and shout "Let's all have a Sailor Jerry's!" and everyone cheers, except for the old man in the coat with sick down the front who sits in the back and thinks it's still the war.

I'm just going to have to find an alternative.

Going for a Song

Less than TWO MONTHS TO GO! We have finished sorting everything out now though, apart from the transport and the drink and the flowers and the tie and the honeymoon and the invites and the vows and the shoes and the legal documentation.

Oh, and the music! We're asking our guests to come up with suggestions. Here are some helpful ideas I received from Dan K.

"Regarding the wedding playlist, perhaps you might like to consider the following.

1. Before the ceremony, when guests are assembling in the conservatory...

The Geto Boys - Mind of a Lunatic, Trigger Happy N***a, Let a Ho be a Ho

The Smiths - Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now

Kanye West - Gold Digger

Pet Shop Boys - What Have I Done To Derserve This?

Beautiful South - Don't Marry Her, **** Me

2. During Ellie's stroll down the aisle...

Iron Maiden - Bring Your Daughter To The Slaughter

The Ramones - The KKK Took My Baby Away

Morrissey - You're The One For Me, Fatty

3. While the books are being signed, and we all stand around waiting for the champagne...

Agoraphobic Nosebleed - Blind Hatred Finds a Tit

Everclear - So Much For The Afterglow

Futureshock - Why, Why, Why?

4. Your first dance...

Joy Division - Love Will Tear Us Apart

Khia - My Back, My Neck, Lick It

50 Cent - P.I.M.P

Timbaland feat. Nelly Furtado - Maneater

Sir Mix-A-Lot - Baby Got Back

DJ PK - Smack Her Wit A Dick

5. As the happy couple head off into the night...

The Doors - The End"

Thanks, Dan! And thanks also to Dan W, who introduced me to the Greatest Song Ever Recorded. I think we've found our wedding band!

Love See No Colour Scheme

Pete and I attended our first (and undoubtedly last) wedding show at the weekend. We decided to go after a leaflet dropped through our door advertising the Wedding Fayre at Kingswood House, a stately home set in acres of glorious South East London housing estate. We wouldn't normally have been interested but the presence of the letter Y in the word Fayre alone suggested we just had to attend.

It was as spectacular and sophisticated an event as you would expect a Wedding Fayre in South East London to be. Highlights included swans made from real feathers and bad papier mache, chocolate stilettos, more pink fairylights than have ever previously co-existed in one place and a Nat King Cole tribute act called Colin.

However, my attention was drawn to a stall in the corner where two ladies sat surrounded by balloons. We wandered over and they showed us a photo album of the different balloon decorations you can have for your wedding, of which there are many thousands.

"Or how about this?" said one of the ladies, pulling out a huge, silver, heart-shaped balloon. "You can have your names and the date of your wedding printed on it, underneath where it says 'Our Special Day'."

"I like it," I said. "But can you change the wording to 'My Special Day'?"

The lady looked a bit confused, so I didn't bother asking if there was room to insert an extra word between 'Special' and 'Day'.

"What's the colour scheme for your wedding?" said the other lady.

Pete and I looked at each other blankly. "Umm... I'm not sure we really have one."

The air became suddenly still. The balloon ladies stared at us, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, as if they were Victorian spinsters and we had just told them our hobbies were gin and buggery.

"But... When did you say you are getting married?" one of them managed to stutter.

"July. The 24th. Not very long I know. Ha ha."

"And... You haven't decided on a colour scheme?"

"Um, no. But, you know, five months is long enough to decide what colour the balloons should be, isn't it, ha ha. Ha?"

Apparently not.

It sounds like we need to decide on a colour scheme pretty sharpish. Why not vote in this week's poll to help us decide?

The Name Game

It's been a difficult week. I almost called the wedding off after my faith in love was shaken by the news of Cheryl and Ashley Cole's marriage breakdown. But as Cheryl herself would say, you've got to Fight Fight Fight Fight Fight for this Love. I'll just have to hope Pete doesn't turn out to be a serially adulterous pornographic text messaging ratbag who's probably gay anyway. Fingers crossed!

I expect Cheryl Cole will be changing her name (after all it's already been unofficially changed to Brave Cheryl Cole, although I wish the papers would go a bit more old school and opt for Cuckolded Cheryl Cole). This got me thinking - what am I going to do about my surname after I am married??

Obviously my first instinct is to keep my name. It's against all my feminist principles to adopt Pete's, thereby implicitly accepting the intrinsic patriarchal oppression of the marriage construct, and also there would be loads of forms to fill out. I did suggest that Pete make a small gesture towards redressing centuries of imbalance by taking my name, but he says he just doesn't "feel" like an Ellie.

I'm not going double-barrelled because it would just feel like a lie, so I have come up with a "third way" and invented an entirely new surname for us both to adopt. It's taken a while, but I think I've settled on the perfect solution, a name which reflects both our personalities but which is also sophisticated and elegant enough for professional use: DANGERFIRE.

I haven't decided whether we should always insist on full capitalisation, but in any case Mr and Mrs Dangerfire certainly has a ring to it. Plus it goes perfectly with our chosen names for our children (Gold, Snake or Fist for a boy; Diamond, Beyonce or Lady Diana Spencer for a girl).

So at least something good has come out of Cheryl and Ashley's split. I hope that comes as some relief.

Vera Wan*, more like

I have a wedding dress! Or at least, I have chosen a wedding dress. Turns out you can't just walk into a shop and buy one, as with normal dresses. You must choose one first and then they make it for you. I like to think of "they" as a team of happy singing mice, like the ones in Cinderella.


However, I think we all know the likely reality.


Anyway, the important thing is I have a wedding dress. And it's not horrible, despite the best efforts of the lady in the wedding dress shop in Sydenham. Yes, Sydenham. "I am no snob," I said to myself. "The wedding dress shop in Sydenham is sure to be good enough for me. Why should it be any different to other wedding dress shops just because it is in South East London?" Because it is in South East London, I should have answered myself.

The lady in the wedding dress shop was very nice, and I cannot fault her in terms of cheerful demeanour. However, I think my vision of my wedding dress (stylish, sophisticated, understated yet impactful) clashed with hers (what would happen if the Emmanuels, Jackie Onassis and Anne Summers got drunk near a sewing machine).


The lady brought me dress after dress, and forced me to try them on even when I said things like, "Hmm, I'm just not sure about the giant crystal bow, especially what with all the lilac netting." I had to stand on a podium in the middle of the shop so Alice and my Mum could look at me and try not to cry. Mainly with laughter.

At one point I agreed to try on a necklace. The lady came back with a tiara, which she jammed onto my head as though experimenting with a glamorous new method of trepanning. I looked at myself in the mirror, on the podium, and gave a little wave. I can't think what it all reminded me of.


"I think I ought to go away and have a think about things," I told the lady.

"Just so you know, you can buy this sample dress if you like," she said. "It's much cheaper. Only £450."

"Um," said Alice, "I'm not sure it quite fits."

"Well," said the lady, jamming two fingers into the bodice and halfway through my spine, "She'll just have to lose weight, won't she?"

We made our excuses and left.

So I didn't end up buying my wedding dress in Sydenham. I bought it somewhere else, but I'm not going to reveal where or what it's like in case Pete is reading this. Here's a hint, though; imagine what this dress might look like on the other side of the pond...

Now I just have two more dresses to find!