Smug marrieds

I think there’s a severe risk that this blog will be one of those incredibly tiring blogs that details about weddings, weddings and more weddings that I have attended over the years. And yet, here I will be detailing about another wedding. Well, two.

Yesterday, I attended yet another of my cousin’s wedding, Fendi’s wedding before running back to KL all the way from Tanjong Karang to attend Joe and Fani’s wedding. No pictures from the latter because, after a while, all weddings start to look and sound the same.

Which is, as always, unfortunate, for the happy couple. All happy couples want their wedding to be extraordinary and unique, some going through greath lengths and detail to make theirs absolutely special. But after attending over 10 weddings in the past two years, all start to sound and look the same save for the dancing swans or the offensive MC here and there.

So, perhaps this is the most sound and logical argument for marrying early. Be the first amongst your friend to marry, that way your wedding will always be the most unique and pretty one.

I’m not being fair to Joe and Fani and I’m starting to sound like a jilted lover. Amusingly enough, this was certainly the first wedding I’ve attended where there were more than a few jilted lovers. Most of them behaved themselves relatively well…which, all things considered, was a shame. It would have been fantastic if one of them were to run up to the altar and started wailing, “No, Joe! Marry me!” or, more likely, since the bride is so pretty: “Fani! Dump the oaf and marry me! I know you just married him this morning, we can ignore that unimportant bit, but we’re a modern society! Marry me instead!”

But the wedding was just so lovely and perfect as the bride and groom were, that even jilted lovers behaved themselves. The shame. I think that was what bothered me a little about the wedding, that it went so well, that it was almost perfunctory. All good weddings should have a drama of some sort. Ones that include, the brother of the bride calling his sister a slag that ought to be disciplined by her new husband (I’m paraphrasing here). And the mysogynist went on and on for half and hour. I don’t think he caught the look of horror on the guests face.

Despite the dour mood I’m in this morning, I actually had a fantastic time. I was determined to have a good time and saying hello to all my friends who I’ve not seen for ages. Some of them (the ones who do not read my blog, haha! So good to have an unknown blog) have unfortunately turned into smug marrieds, a term coined by Helen Fielding of the “Bridget Jones Diary” fame. You know the ones, who eye at you up and down and remind you how small you are for not being married and having a husband (“But, but I have a boyfriend! Doesn’t that count?!”) and they start comparing their pre-pregnancy weight to their during-pregnancy weight, just to make you feel worse than you already do. (“God, I’m so fat now that I’m pregnant. I’m 56kgs now!” – If she wasn’t pregnant, I might have slapped her silly) and spending time with bachelors who were having a great time explaining why exactly Joe has such a big grin on his face that evening. And what exactly was he going to do about it.

See? This kind of conversation would never happen with my UK or AES or my SC friends because all of them would have slept with their prospective grooms/bride before the wedding night.

All in all, lovely but tiring day. And it is Sunday and today, I start the day off with going to the play practice, attending Joe’s side of the wedding, going to Philip Wain before worrying once more about funding and money. And ticket selling. I think part of the reason why I’m giggling so much is because I’m so stressed about the play. I pray, pray, pray that we’ll be able to cover cost and get some funding. *Collapses from the stress* Poor Eizwan had borne the brunt of my stress.

God, weddings, Philip Wain and then working on a play. Gene Genie would say I’m a posh bird alright. Or a ponce. I’m not, really I’m not.

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