The second wedding, happened to be filled – chockers blockers - with Ozzies. Half of Perth flew out for this ceremony, trust me.Our friend has married a true blue Bruce. There was many a rugby joke.
Just to give an indication of how ballsy these strapping fellows were: mere minutes after the church service, we stumble outside to find a group of Ozzies enjoying a joint right outside, under a tree. All very gung ho. I mean there's always a time and a place, and only an Ozzie wouldn't give a fat old stuff about either. Hilarious.
They were everywhere, and how excited were we? Dad walked up up one of them who looked frightfully hair product-saturated and said: “Shane Warne, Hi.” He scrubbed up nicely, my Dad. Even wore a suit. After baiting me for days with plaid and polyester threats. He also dragged me around the Ozzie bunch introducing me as his daughter. (It's ok Dad, I really can sort myself out, thanks)
It was a large wedding, set in a marquee on the lawn of her farm. It really was a gorgeous wedding though. And as the night went on, I had to discard my heels, 'cos I was getting stuck on the grass like a giant golf tee – so this Ozzie dude kindly gave me his shoes:
He waltzed around in his little Perth socks, and I walked around in his Prada brogues. His mates kept on asking me whether I was engaged/had a boyfriend/was otherwise occupied because they really wanted him to come right.“Can he stay over with you?” (Well....I dunno. I really only talked to him for his shoes, see.) Thoroughly pleasant chap though.
Many folks shared a sneaky smooch with a sneaky Ozzie at some point. I was pretty much ready to go with the Shoe Lending Ozzie, and although all my mates around me were sucking sneaky face, I just couldn't bring myself to close the deal. It just seemed too easy. It also meant admin: small talk, battering of eyelids probably, and I dunno....dancing and making human chains seemed way more interesting than playing tonsil hockey with some bloke from Perth. Maybe next time.
I saw a bunch of my old school friends, and we all got completely punished together. One dude asked me whether I was Australian based on “my deloitful accent” (of course I'm Ozzie, I mean for Chroissakes), and basically, 13 hours later – it was a 13 hour wedding – we crashed after an amazing night.
Then drove back to Johannesburg yesterday. THAT was a ball ache, let me tell you. The traffic was out of control. Please put your spawn on a leash at those Shell Ultra places, please. I saw a kid on a leash at one of the weddings. She was adorable, well-behaved and not kicking up a fuss.
I start work today. Eeek. I haven't worked in a office for almost 2 months. Now I am back to 8-5ing it. I'm terribly nervous, and terribly excited. It means my limbo period has abruptly halted. I even did an embarrassing First Day Of School, the laying-out-of-the-office-uniform for this morning the night before. (Boots and skirt, if you're interested.)
I have a lot to learn over the next few weeks. I hear I might even have some studying to do.
