It may have been missing, I don't know, doves or something, but the bridal party was full of strapping young men and tall, gorgeous blondes, and Jacqui looked amazing - but she always looks amazing, so that's all right. ;) It worked out exactly as it was supposed to, and Jacqui and Justin were very happy with it all, so on the one hand I was sniffling and very happy for them and crying with Kyla happily (she is even worse than I am, if you can believe that), and on the other hand trying to step on the portion of my head that had to sit down in order to laugh itself sick at the perfection involved, and hurt itself rolling its eyes at the desire for this event in general.

I think I am calling that part 'Xolotl' from now on.

The wedding itself was at a little church in Rosalie, where Jacqui's mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother were married. Dashed across a busy road in new heels to hand out said books, risking life and ankle, to hand out prayer books I was apparently meant to be helping with (thanks for the advance notice, Dad, sheesh). The kids attended the ceremony, which meant that Connor wriggled impatiently and Gina had to wear a white dress with tulle and satin and be the Prettiest Bride There.

We did have a brief conversation about outshining the bride and why you shouldn't do it, but there was no chance of that, because Jacqui can be gorgeous in a sack. This meant that after the ceremony, Gina collapsed into tears outside the church. Quote, I thought I would be the prettiest girl here, but Jacqui's dress is better than mine, unquote. It is very hard to be sympathetic to your kid sister when you are greatly tempted to collapse with laughter.

After a brief clutter of photography, we dashed the kids out to Toowong to stay with Narnie and then back to South Bank for the reception. My shoes were surprisingly comfortable and easy to walk in. More on this later.

Spent most of the reception keeping Grandma company, which was an excellent excuse not to mingle too far. (This was mostly self-preservation. Attempting to mingle at that even would have had me passed out on the table halfway through. Yes, people exhaust me that much.) Was at one point forced to dance with Kyla because Dad would not. She was shocked to discover I had rhythm.
ME: ...of course I do. I played an instrument for seven years. o.0
KYLA: o.0 You're good! Look! Look! You're good! :D Why don't you dance more?!
ME: Because I don't like it? XD;;;
She kept switching dancing styles, too, so given the shoes I was in it is probably something of a miracle that I did not break both ankles. We have established that I am not embarrassed to dance, nor am I bad at dancing, I simply do not enjoy writhing at random. (I am perfectly happy line-dancing, which is probably not something I should admit to in public.)

Justin and Jacqui had tiny black and white photographs of themselves on their travels scattered across the tables - it was a really nice touch. The speeches were excellent, particularly on the part of Justin's wing-man. XD Perfect comic timing and tone. I am mostly unashamed to admit that I was totally taking notes for alleyne's wedding. Which is what this entry was MEANT to be about.

Instead, I've ended up talking about myself more than anything else. I suspect this is because I went into the whole affair vaguely irritated because the bride had vowed at the hen's night to a) get me drunk, and b) get me laid. As if I were a sad pathetic creature who required her assistance, and everyone should want these things with no additional stipulations.

And the entire idea frustrates and bewilders me. Kindly fuck off with your sparkly white traditional bullshit and stop trying to impose your decidedly narrow view of the world upon me. The shallowness upsets me. Just because this shit makes you happy - if it makes you happy, which I take leave to doubt - does not mean it will make me happy. Just because I do not usually have this shit does not make me unhappy. And actually, I think what she described would in fact make me utterly miserable, because it would take even more time away from what I would actually like to do with my life, i.e. WRITING.

Anyway. It really was lovely, despite my rant. Very much what they both wanted, which is the important thing. I hope they will both be ridiculously happy and have the disgustingly gorgeous children that they both want, and that Justin gets the position he was hoping for in the Royal Brisbane Hospital so that they don't have to be in Rockhampton for another year.

And now I have to go hunt avocados and roma tomatoes because there is not time to bake for this picnic, so I am making guacamole. Om nom nom. Not actually feeling too enthusiastic about the prospect of spending more time with a large group of people, but it's the translators, all of whom are awesome, so I'm sure it will be fine.

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