I’m becoming obsessed with tassle bunting/garlands.
OR! I’m trying to avoid everything.
Changes everywhere. Knackering.
Last week I went on my first audition in years..YEARS. From the first 5 mins I knew I was totally out of my league, surrounded as I was by a group who knew their craft so well. The rest of the folks who were supposed to audition alongside me didn’t turn up, so there I was attempting to be funny beside the very people who make me laugh on a regular basis. Needless to say I swore, said ‘bumming’ too many times to be comfortable with it and walked out thinking for sure no call back, but that I had a private show of brilliance and hilarity. I should be embarrassed of my massive Fail, but I laughed solidly for 2 hours so I’m chalkin’ it up to a midweek, rainy night win.
Driving lessons are going well - instructor started talking about tests so I musn’t be the Steering Wheeled Danger I thought I was. I did stall the car though, but only because there were 5 puppies being walked on the other side of the road and they were so cute I thought I’d die so that’s ok, right?
Still engaged. Still asking my beloved if he wants to change his mind. Still planning a wedding with not a sense of what’s to be done. Still crying at the drop of a hat because I’m a walking cliche and I miss my mum.
The thing with having a parent die when you’re young, is that you miss out on every great life event with them. Most of the time it’s normal, but it saddens me greatly that DR doesn’t know her. That my fabulously generous Dad doesn’t have someone to help him out during another emotional day, and that I don’t get to go dress shopping with the one person who’d tell me I look like a horse in white.
The house is getting a revamp. Lots of painting and decorating in my future. DR and I could be found doing multiple high fives in Currys last night after purchasing a new dishwasher, so I suppose we’ve fully embraced being complete tits.
I’ve been given an offer to write something weird and wonderful and it’s the scariest thing ever. Being so wimpy about it makes me know I need to say yes, but I also feel like I need to get back some mojo - my ‘style’ or lack thereof, needs tweaking. INJECTION OF TALENT PLEASE, STAT.
Organising Dads 80th - if an event doesn’t have ‘wedding’ in front of it, I become party planner extraordinaire. We’ll be toasting the man, the LEGEND, in classic Press style and my siblings & I have already started prepping our livers for the inevitable morning after post wine lobotomy. No one in the universe deserves to be spoiled and celebrated than my Dad - he’s incredible and he is, most definitely, better than yours. YES. SHUT UP NOT LISTENING.
The same person, someone I don’t recognise, keeps coming into my dreams and making me take a blue football kit as a present. They’re always yelling TAKE THE GIFT and I eventually do because my sister turns up and tells me off for making somone else mad.
There I was, washing dishes and talking up a storm to Hendricks when I realised it wasn’t my dog I was talking to but a giant bag of dog food.
I went into a place to get married to DR, but was told he had gone and that I would be marrying Tom Cruise. No one answered when I asked ‘why?’.
Tom met me and told me we had a wedding planner. A big cloud appeared and the wedding planner cut himself out of it. Everything the wedding planner guy said, Tom Cruise would repeat it, only loudly while grabbing my face.
Wedding Planner Guy: I’m thinking hotels and glamour..
Tom: GLAMOUR *Squeezes my face* HOTEL!
WPG: Lots of canapes and bubbles..
I was all ‘PLEASE TOM, CALM DOWN' and he was all 'YEAH! CANAPES!’.
My dad strolled in to say there were no tables. He was very upset at the lack of tables. He got into the cloud and zipped it up.
My dogs were my dogs except they weren’t.
Michael Jackson told me he’d sing a song to our first dance and I asked him if he was sure, and was he not dead? And he leaned in anD whispered “Yes”.
I woke up BECAUSE THAT WAS TERRIFYING.