Wednesday, 19 May 2010

The proper basis for marriage is a mutual misunderstanding :)

It's probably the most distressing situation which i have to go through a couple times a year, with the bulk of it being in the summer. It's like an alien invasion has come to planet Earth turning my nearest and dearest into psycho's and zapping out the light behind their eyes. Its those ghastly weddings that we have some sort of untalked about obligation to grace our presence with. My o my what a nightmare those turn out to be.

It would be okay if they were a bit different every time i went- but nope. The drama starts weeks before, when my mum bursts into my room (without knocking may i add?? God knows what i could be doing in there ;P) and starts screaming at the top of her lungs. By the genuine panic in her voice and the hysteria in which her arms are flapping you would think a family member nabbed themselves a spot in hospital- Oh no...the truth of the matter is she needs to help me find a downright perfect outfit to wear for the next wedding....after all we haven't seen Auntie Sheila since the last family feud two years ago, so my mother needs to make sure that all her children look absolutely immaculate to show that her constant years of bitching about Auntie Sheila haven't in fact, taken a toll on our reputation. Also, Auntie Ruby's daughter has just been accepted on to do medicine at university- for Asian girl who has not forayed into the field of blood and guts, image is CRUCIAL.

Once you get to the wedding, there are rules. Who I'm allowed to talk to and who I'm not. Stay away from the alcoholic uncle and go talk to that women...she looks like she's rich. We don't even need to talk about Auntie Sheila and who gives a shit about getting into med school...i look way better than the highest able and brainy cousin. With snobbery written all over her face I'll give it a pass.

You have to sort of give way to the tension, plaster a fake smile across your face and go and meet relatives you never knew existed. What really gets me annoyed and threatens to alter my smile into a frown (I'm surprised people haven't asked me about my face twitching fits yet) is when you try to be honourable and greet an elderly lady you've never met. You say hi, she makes the excruciating effort to get up and pat you on the head. The hairdo which you have worked on for the past three hours has been ruined.

You would think that's it right? Well combining the painful dance sequences that we have the greatest opportunity to witness via 12 year old girls on the brink of puberty, along with the god awful food ( not a fan of Asian cuisine, i only eat my mum's rice), along with the crowds of people which causes me to believe i will faint at least 4 times in a night, along with the horrifically late entrance of the bride (you just really want to get it over and done with ) it really makes for a mind boggling frame of mind.

I guess that what I'll have to get used to. I'm getting older, people will be expecting me to be a bit more enthusiastic with these weddings and maybe even show people I'm not a cold hearted bitch and that i do indeed possess the unique talent of smiling. Who knows, my mum might start talking to Auntie Sheila again and my cousin might just fail a year. However for the meantime, I'm cool with the role of being the anti-social girl, sitting in the corner, tugging at my uncomfortable clothes and wishing the creepy guy on the other table could quit staring. Seriously, in his dreams...

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