Last night, R sent me the reading I get to do. It is very groovy, a new translation of St. Paul's bit about love. The commonly known version goes on about how "Love is patient and kind..." etc which has always been one of my favourite bits out of the Bible. I have already learnt it off by heart (I commit poetry and prose to memory in a flash). I tried to do recite it standing up, but it takes longer than I can stand up for, so we're going to have to work out some way I can address the entire congregation from a seated position.
In other Wedding Of The Century news, our friend H has now become involved in the fitting of the bridesmaid's dress. I didn't do this - [...] roped him in somehow. H used to make ball dresses and stuff, he knows what he's doing. This bridesmaid's dress has already become far far more trouble than it is possibly worth. I wanted to be a bridesmaid when R asked me because she wanted me to be and if I said no, it would be because of my illness. I have no desire to wear a silly dress (and it has now become the silliest dress in Christendom), but I didn't want my illness to hamper my involvement in what will be the only big wedding I am likely to be involved in.
Mind you, if I wasn't a bridesmaid I would need to find some other mainstream-wedding-oriented outfit and I had enough trouble cobbling something half decent to attend my cousin's wedding a couple of years ago. The last three weddings we've been invited to in Whitby have had a pirate-orientated dresscode. Whitby is an odd kind of place like that, but if you are yourself an odd-ball it is far easier and cheaper to conform and totally acceptable not to.
I just hope the Wedding of the Century guests can cope with a little non-conformity.
* If [...] and I ever marry we shall either do it in secret or we shall do it in some weird and wonderful way and only invite the five members of my family I have regular and personable contact with. R & A are laying on a mini-bus for the occupants of the family vault.
** When I was a kid I always wanted a brother. Now I have two brother-like figures - Adrian who has been my brother-in-law in all but name for years now and H who is also rather like a brother-in-law but in an even less official sense since he is not actually [...]'s brother and [...] and I are not married.
However, I really need a third to fully compensate my fraternal deficit, so ideally if my folks split my Mum could remarry someone just a little bit older than me - mid thirties perhaps - and I would be invested in such a wedding. I wouldn't attend their wedding if my Dad remarried at all, since that would just be odd.
If you spend so much time alone, you think about these things. It's natural. The only thing which I do not have an excuse for is writing them down.