Ooh I Do Love A Good Wedding...

Anything to get the monkey walk recorded in history!



Confetti chucking...


Chuz and Rhona. The next ones to get married. I've told them. They have to you see, I introduced them too. I think he really loves her. You can tell by his face eh?



Ali and I. My saviour and bed chamber mate. Cups of tea back at ours at two in the morning.

Wedding Belles

Part of my trip home was to attend the wedding of my gorgeous friends Jim and Kirsty. I simply had to see them get married as I was the one responsible for introducing them.

I am, in fact, Cilla. With smaller teeth. But with a singing style not dissimilar to the warbly one!

Kirsty had asked me to be part of the wedding by doing a reading during the service. The thought scared the hell out of me. However, after swigging pimms and lemonade from a orange flowery hipflask outside the church the thought of reading in front of an audience of thousands terrified me to the point of nausea.

My terrifically high stilettos now slipped around my heels as I perspired with nerves. As I walked to the front of the church clutching my ragged piece of paper my heels dragged across the flagstones like a ten year old playing dress up in her mums lady shoes.

I took my place at the front of the church and I started to read the piece entitled 'A Good Wedding Cake'. The reading is based on a recipe for wedded bliss. It therefore calls for 1lb of good looks....that is when the nerves took over and in a desperate bid to catch my breath and calm myself, I found myself pausing and then... winking at the groom!

I. Winked. At. The Groom.

Oh the horror. God should have struck me down right there and then.

Everyone thankfully laughed (probably at the look of shock on my face more than anything) and I was able to skulk back to my seat and skull the rest of my pimms with Ali!


Ali, Kirsty and the Public Speaking Idiot.

Where The Air Starts To Thin

I have a gorgeous pair of new shoes. They were a bargain and exactly what I was searching for, perfect for Kirsty and Jims wedding in a couple of weeks time.

However I have a few issues regarding these implements of sluttish behaviour:

1. They have the most massive heel. Somehow I look a little less Glamazon and a little more Danny La Rue in them. Lets put this into perspective, in these heels, I'm as tall as Dave.
   
   Dave is 6'3"!
   
   ....I'm a man for gods sake!
   
   
2. The fact that I haven't adorned such dizzying creations since the start of my antipodean adventure means that I am very bad at walking in heels. So much so that I have found that I actually walk as if protecting a scrotal sack between my gargantuan thighs!
   
   Or at least I'm strutting like Beyonce Knowles at any rate...
   
   
3. Because I have been living as a sandgroper for two years means that I have lived in flipflops and now my feet have spread and resemble those of Frodo the Hobbit. I have tried to stretch the shoes to fit non-asian princess feet but I fear nerve damage and amputation before my forth coming holiday is over.
   
   
4. I fear altitude sickness.
   
   
5. And alcohol....
   
   Did you not see Naomi Campbell in those Vivienne Westwood platforms that time? That will be me sashaying up the aisle to deliver my reading only to topple and drag the best man down with me, possibly showing my knickers to the entire congregation in the process!
   

Do you have any advice for me?

How do I learn to walk in heels in the manner of Sarah Jessica Parker in Sex and the City?

People, you have two weeks to whip me into shape!