14 April 2008

So many little jobs

Well the weekend whizzed by and left me thoroughly depressed and now I'm back at work. The only time I got at home was a few hours on Sunday night, just enough time to be annoyed by an episode of Skins (Cassie was being a whiney twat, god get over it love and have a doughnut) and then watch the first bit of Shipwrecked 2008. There were a couple of cute boys, quite posh and country-types but I don't mind that, so I can look forward to several weeks of them wandering around topless and tanned on T4.

As always with trips home, lots of the talk revolved around our wedding and Stuart and Helen's wedding this summer, and it made me realise quite how many things we've still got to do! I thought we were well on top of everything, but now there are only 3.5 months left and we've got to:

invite evening guests, book music equipment, book balloons, sort out table favours, get measured for suit hire, get my Dad and brother measured for suit hire, do the seating plan, get the bridesmaids dresses, do our music playlist, and meet up with our photographer again for a 2-months-before briefing. Ack so much to do. Hopefully Chris will get a few bits done while he's off this week, and I suppose 3 months is quite a lot of time to sort all those things out.

Honestly though, arranging a wedding is SUCH a faff. If it were just a party you'd only need to hire a room and get some music and invite people. Weddings have a million other things you're supposed to do or are traditional, and they all seem to cost several hundred pounds! And there's still the honeymoon trip afterwards to plan and pack for. At least the flights and hotels are booked.

So anyway, I guess I'd better get on with some of these things! Or rather, email Chris and tell him to do them, that's a much better idea.
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1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I've been involved in organising a friend's weekend. Long story but they were getting married in 3 years time but moved it up and we've done the whole thing in 9 weeks flat. I sometimes think my perfect job would be a wedding planner but then I also think I'm just too cynical to be around that amount of sappy perfect happiness crap every day. The stripper for the hen night is called Sir Dance-a-lot. Shudder.