Status: A work in progress for years and years and years ... etc
Headfirst for Halos
The Wedding
Hey,
Sorry I haven’t written in a while, life has been hectic (yes, for me) and I’ve just not had a minute to myself.
I’ve been oh so busy with my mother over the past few days, you see, I had to be an emergency bridesmaid for that wedding I didn’t really want to go to in the first place, and me being me couldn’t find it in me to refuse. I know, I’m such a pushover – get used to it, I have. I didn’t refuse cause the bride is practically my sister anyway (I’m sure I ranted about the last minute invite in my last letter), well she used to be, but that’s a long story.
So anyway, here it is. I had to dance (yeah, infront of everyone) with someone who I know doesn’t like me very much. Scratch that, he really hates my guts (I think it is karma biting me back in the ass. Yes because of you! And what you said was the worst that would happen in your last letter! It came true!) I had to do all of this in a dress that I thought looked hideous. When shopping with my mother I had taken to affectionately calling it the whore dress.
Enough of my ranting – how did your weekend go? I’m just betting you had a much better time than I did at your gig.
I hope I can see some of your lyrics soon, I’d really like to read them. I’d love to be able to play an instrument, but then again, I do enjoy drawing just as much.
Speak soon love! X
I lay back on my bed and thought about how horrific the weekend had really been. My letter merely skimmed the top.
My heart began to pound practically the second I woke up on Saturday morning. This was it. This was the big day. I was nervous to say the least, and I hadn’t even began to get ready. You’d have thought I was the one getting married.
It was an early rise for me, my mother had insisted that I get over to help Ollie with preparing everything in the morning and that I had to just get ready over there as she had taken my dress over last night. I was basically tossed out of the house in a night-robe and slippers carrying a bag of necessities my mother had assembled. On approaching the door it opened just wide enough to let me see a very ecstatic looking mother of the bride.
“Come on in dear, oh you have the things your mother picked up, good. Thank heavens for that woman right now” She reached towards the bag I was carrying with one hand and pulled me inside with the other.
“Just what we needed!” She exclaimed, pulling out a bottle of champagne.
“Necessities.” I repeated to myself.
I should have known better.
The morning was filed with the applying of make up, tears, champagne corks popping and the re-applying of make up once the tears had been stopped by the champagne. I realised now that it really was a necessity on the morning of a wedding.
Eventually I was cornered into a room with that hideous dress. It was my turn to get ready. I had half prepared myself last night; shaving legs and underarms, washing my hair thoroughly, moisturising with a face mask and most important of all I went to bed early to give myself the best chance at a good night sleep.
My make-up had been applied earlier and my hair was styled too. This was the final piece, to put on the dress that I would have to wear for oh so long. I was dreading it.
After, say, twenty minutes of struggling, I was finally clad in my dress. I still thought it was too short and too low.
It was a babydoll style dress - whatever that is - with no straps (a fact that I detested) and the top was encrusted with silver jewels. It was a deep red colour that went well with my now frequently blushing cheeks, something that happened when I wore dresses. And that’s about it. I know it isn’t really a whore dress per se, but I really didn’t want a dress this short.
I sighed and pulled on my heels – one thing I did like about this outfit. They were Irregular Choice – a small company that had just started out. They made shoes that were extremely out there. My heels were, in my eyes, to die for.
Wow, I like shoes. I’ve not noticed this before…
I stumbled my way out of my stupor and left the room. I was one of the last ones to get dressed. I hastily pulled the door closed behind me and rounded the corner in the hall to walk straight into someone.
Someone taller than me. In a suit.
I grimaced at the memory. That is where my weekend began to be seriously weird.
Sorry I haven’t written in a while, life has been hectic (yes, for me) and I’ve just not had a minute to myself.
I’ve been oh so busy with my mother over the past few days, you see, I had to be an emergency bridesmaid for that wedding I didn’t really want to go to in the first place, and me being me couldn’t find it in me to refuse. I know, I’m such a pushover – get used to it, I have. I didn’t refuse cause the bride is practically my sister anyway (I’m sure I ranted about the last minute invite in my last letter), well she used to be, but that’s a long story.
So anyway, here it is. I had to dance (yeah, infront of everyone) with someone who I know doesn’t like me very much. Scratch that, he really hates my guts (I think it is karma biting me back in the ass. Yes because of you! And what you said was the worst that would happen in your last letter! It came true!) I had to do all of this in a dress that I thought looked hideous. When shopping with my mother I had taken to affectionately calling it the whore dress.
Enough of my ranting – how did your weekend go? I’m just betting you had a much better time than I did at your gig.
I hope I can see some of your lyrics soon, I’d really like to read them. I’d love to be able to play an instrument, but then again, I do enjoy drawing just as much.
Speak soon love! X
I lay back on my bed and thought about how horrific the weekend had really been. My letter merely skimmed the top.
My heart began to pound practically the second I woke up on Saturday morning. This was it. This was the big day. I was nervous to say the least, and I hadn’t even began to get ready. You’d have thought I was the one getting married.
It was an early rise for me, my mother had insisted that I get over to help Ollie with preparing everything in the morning and that I had to just get ready over there as she had taken my dress over last night. I was basically tossed out of the house in a night-robe and slippers carrying a bag of necessities my mother had assembled. On approaching the door it opened just wide enough to let me see a very ecstatic looking mother of the bride.
“Come on in dear, oh you have the things your mother picked up, good. Thank heavens for that woman right now” She reached towards the bag I was carrying with one hand and pulled me inside with the other.
“Just what we needed!” She exclaimed, pulling out a bottle of champagne.
“Necessities.” I repeated to myself.
I should have known better.
The morning was filed with the applying of make up, tears, champagne corks popping and the re-applying of make up once the tears had been stopped by the champagne. I realised now that it really was a necessity on the morning of a wedding.
Eventually I was cornered into a room with that hideous dress. It was my turn to get ready. I had half prepared myself last night; shaving legs and underarms, washing my hair thoroughly, moisturising with a face mask and most important of all I went to bed early to give myself the best chance at a good night sleep.
My make-up had been applied earlier and my hair was styled too. This was the final piece, to put on the dress that I would have to wear for oh so long. I was dreading it.
After, say, twenty minutes of struggling, I was finally clad in my dress. I still thought it was too short and too low.
It was a babydoll style dress - whatever that is - with no straps (a fact that I detested) and the top was encrusted with silver jewels. It was a deep red colour that went well with my now frequently blushing cheeks, something that happened when I wore dresses. And that’s about it. I know it isn’t really a whore dress per se, but I really didn’t want a dress this short.
I sighed and pulled on my heels – one thing I did like about this outfit. They were Irregular Choice – a small company that had just started out. They made shoes that were extremely out there. My heels were, in my eyes, to die for.
Wow, I like shoes. I’ve not noticed this before…
I stumbled my way out of my stupor and left the room. I was one of the last ones to get dressed. I hastily pulled the door closed behind me and rounded the corner in the hall to walk straight into someone.
Someone taller than me. In a suit.
I grimaced at the memory. That is where my weekend began to be seriously weird.
♠ ♠ ♠
And a big chapter, since I have no homework on account of me going to Edinburgh Zoo tomorrow with the Biology department in school! Hurrah for crash highers!I really would appreciate comments everyone even if it is just to say, I dont like it (: but if you say that you must give a reason why. So I can improve. So goodbye my loves, be good =) x