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Alas, there’s wayyyy too much to discuss with you, dear diary. It’s mainly to do with the wedding report, which I’ll attempt to make succinct as possible... This was the wedding of two musicians who were both meticulous planners, and who had a seemingly unlimited budget. Things that may have contributed to the cost included:
It all went without a hitch, though it may have lacked some spontaneity. When the happy couple were able to relax and mingle during the reception we saw them as the excellent people they are. I was sitting next to Ruth’s husband (she’s at my work, as was the groom until a couple of months ago) and another musician I’ve known for ages. The company and wine were excellent. I caught up with the spunky bridesmaid and asked her to dance. She said she had to keep the guestbook moving around the tables, but I insisted. After some sexy-rumba and tango, and the fireworks, we found a secluded corner and pashed a bit. Then she offered me a lift home, so I invited her in for hot chocolate, and we ended up making passionate love and waking up in each other’s arms. Oops!!! Please disregard that last paragraph. That’s the old Josquin, in his dreams. Here’s the Old Josquin in reality... I caught up with the spunky bridesmaid and asked her to dance. She said she had to keep the guestbook moving around the tables, so I had another glass of wine. After the fireworks and the departure of the bride and groom, the dance band started up again. The people I knew who could give me a lift back to town looked at their watches and left, but I wanted to dance, so I graciously refused their offers and hung around to dance. Within ten minutes, every person to a man or woman had said “Wow, it’s 11 o’clock and I’m old. Ciao!”. Without an audience the band stopped, and I started looking for a lift. After a couple of false starts, the cute bridesmaid was going my way, so I waited for her to get changed (she looked funny with her hair curled but in civvy clothes), and she drove me home. We had an excellent conversation in the car on many topics. When we got to my place I thanked her, said goodbye, and kicked myself for not having the nerve to get her phone number. Actually, you can disregard that last paragraph too. The old Josquin is a thing of the past. Here’s the New Josquin in reality... I caught up with the spunky bridesmaid and asked her to dance. She said she had to keep the guestbook moving around the tables, so I had another glass of wine. After the fireworks and the departure of the bride and groom, the dance band started up again. The people I knew who could give me a lift back to town looked at their watches and left, but I wanted to dance, so I graciously refused their offers and hung around to dance. Within ten minutes, every person to a man or woman had said “Wow, it’s 11 o’clock and I’m old. Ciao!”. Without an audience the band stopped, and I started looking for a lift. After a couple of false starts, the cute bridesmaid was going my way, so I waited for her to get changed (she looked funny with her hair curled but in civvy clothes), and she drove me home. We had an excellent conversation in the car on many topics. When we got to my place I thanked her, and said goodbye. After my hot date the previous Tuesday, I didn’t intend to ring her (spunky bridesmaid), so I didn’t try to get her number. I hope that’s better than getting getting her number and not calling. I had a karmic moment just before... at the wedding every place had a pretty box with three very nice chocolates in it. Two people at my table wasn’t able to get to the reception. As I was the last to leave, I thought I would have the remaining box, though I probably should have left it to the waiting staff. Having finished my own chocolates, I opened up the other box (drooling like one of Pavlov’s dogs, no less) to find the wrapping still there but the chocolates gone! Serves me right!
Here’s an interesting entry I’ve been reading by . This month
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