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Getting back to Scotland: Ushering, Pregnancy, & Social Decorum.

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One of the reasons that I started this whole Blapril business is because I was going through some old posts and realized I’d never concluded blogging about my trip to Scotland despite the fact that it occurred last summer. This being the last day of Blapril I’m going to conclude the Scotland story today. (You can read Day One and Day Two if you need to catch up)

Alright so it’s now the day of the wedding and Heather, Matt and I awake fresh-faced (huh) and ready to embrace another whirlwind day in glorious Scotland. Needless to say we wake up late, throw a lunch together of leftovers from the ScotMid and immediately head to the glorious venue overlooking picturesque Edinburgh. It’s at this point, looking over the rolling hills and terraced homes below, that I realize I’ve left my camera at the apartment. Minor glitch aside, Matt and I set about the serious business of ushering. At least I did.

Matt imagines himself the good cop of our duo and basically decides that he will greet the guests while I am left to the sticky business of seat placement, you may recall – or not, it has admittedly been ages – that Dan had slipped me the seating information at the very end of his stag night two days previous. Basically there was close family and speakers at the front and we had to keep a few people separated from eachother. So basically we’re telling people sit anywhere but the front rows. Easy peasy. Until one of Dan’s relatives, not on the list, sits in the front row. Not only that, she invites others to sit with her despite being told, by me, to sit ANYWHERE but the front two rows. At this point Matt vanishes literally into thin air and I attempt to explain politely that the front two rows are for close family and speakers.

After some serious negotiations, and getting thrown some major side eye, everyone is in place and the wedding can commence. Matt reappears, Charlotte looks fabulous, and everything goes off without a hitch. My father, who told Dan it would never last, even got a mention in the speech, about which he was quite pleased.

Lovers betrothed we can now get on to the serious business of getting shitfaced. The bar is open, drinks are flowing and Dan’s, admittedly hysterical friend, Colin somehow gets onto the subject of douching, I’m pretty sure directed at me. Ever the courteous friend I try to explain to Colin that weddings are perhaps not the best venue to inquire about others’ douching habits. “It would be rude, for example, to ask Heather do you douche?” is my primary example which Colin seems to take to heart. Unfortunately, of the whole conversation, beginning to end, the only snippet that apparently reaches the mother of the grooms ears is “Heather, do you douche?”

Lovely. At this point I’m now a family separating bastard and filthy-mouthed pervert, and I’m only two drinks in. Not to worry, I’m quick to remedy the latter problem as I can do nothing about the first two.

Next up is the musical interlude which was brilliant. Dan had arranged a surprise rendition of The Beach Boys’ God Only Knows for Charlotte and I have to say one of my favourite memories from the whole wedding was practicing beforehand in the only space big and private enough at the venue: the men’s washroom.

The rest of the night is a bit of a blur but I had a brilliant time. We ceili-ed, drank copious amounts, relaxed on a patio perched gloriously atop Edinburgh, and danced and drank a little more.

One of the funniest things to happen all night was when Neil and Kate arrived. I had already rather put my foot in my mouth with Neil and Kate when we first met them as I said I was looking forward to seeing them at the wedding only to find out they weren’t officially on the guest list, but they would be coming after dinner. Anyway, almost immediately on arrival someone asked Kate – skinny, wearing a very pretty flowing dress – if she was Dan’s friend who was pregnant. Needless to say she was not and that telling me first might not have been her best tactical move if she was looking for sympathy. I spent the rest of the night congratulating Neil and questioning Kate’s alcohol consumption. D’you know when you meet someone and you just know a joke will be ok and it’s amazing. Kate is amazing. She is pictured below drinking a soft drink, rather than an alcoholic beverage, the next day.

Much like every other night on our trip to Scotland, the night sort of just kept going. As the wedding wound down we found ourselves with a group at a casino – because they will serve alcohol on a Sunday night – and later back at the ScotMid. It was a glorious trip. The next day we enjoyed a picnic, the Royal Mile and a brilliant ghost walk. The morning after that Matt, Heather and I departed. Actually, they departed first. And I cried.

The amount of time you can spend with people ebbs and flows throughout your life and while you should never be afraid to meet new friends, it is incredibly comforting to spend time with people who really know you.



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