Pecking Pain

Today, I have organised a hen do.

It is an honour, a compliment, a privilege and well…a bit of a pain. So far, I have been a bridesmaid twice, and I have been asked three more times since then. Five wedding invites; five times a bridesmaid. It is wonderful that I have such close friends who want me to be a main part of their special day. It mostly wasn’t hugely unexpected that they asked me and yes, I probably would have felt a bit slighted if I had been left out or not chosen in favour of someone else. However, on the flip side, there would have been a slight sense of relief that I could be ‘just’ a guest and not be directly involved. That I could choose what to wear, and when to arrive. That I didn’t have to play a significant part in arranging a suitable hen do.

The hen-do is the main burden of a bridesmaid, I find. Firstly, it is no longer a “hen night” or a “hen party” with a few of your closest friends. It is more often than not, an entire “hen weekend” with no less than ten girls from several different parts of your life, and parts of your personality, all brought together in a house or a hotel, a tent or a cabin in a location that is not one you have any true connection too. It is expected to cost upwards of a couple of hundred pounds per person, and that’s deemed acceptable because it’s ‘fairly standard for a hen do’. WHY?

Secondly, there’s all the activities that have to be planned. The individual catering to the preferred tastes of the bride-to-be, a full and fun-packed agenda. A morning yoga session; a champagne afternoon tea. An evening at a special restaurant, three courses and copious bottles of bubbly. Cocktail-making, dance classes, an all-you-can-eat bottomless brunch. With a dozen people attending of different ages, fitness levels, dietary requirements and personalities, it can be so difficult to try and find events to suit all, even if the ultimate aim is to ensure the bride is satisfied, she won’t have fun unless everyone is willing and involved in the weekend. Time to rest and relax is often built in at some point, but there is much focus on doing things together as a group for most of the time, after all that is what you’re there for. It’s tiring.

Thirdly, the surprise aspect. You are often expected to arrange an entire weekend event, co-ordinating a group of someone else’s friends (half of whom won’t know each other), without much assistance from the one person who links all those people together. You have to second guess what the bride will like, what she expects, will she be disappointed if something in particular is missing? Would she love to go glamping or rather have something more upmarket? Does she want to go for a night out, a few drinks at a few bars, or just a cosy nights in with games and food? Does she want the tacky ‘traditional’ tat that goes with hen parties, or prefer a classier affair?

Surely, since she’s defined you as one of her closest friends, that must mean you know all this instinctively, right? Not always. She needs to be surprised by having exactly the kind of thing she wants, without having to tell you that is what it is. And you have to agree on this with her other bridesmaids, again these could be girls you haven’t met who may have very different ideas from your own.

I have arranged three successful hen celebrations, each suited to the respective bride. They were fun, but also, exhausting and a cause of anxiety, even in the midst of the activities. I couldn’t fully enjoy the experiences as I was constantly concerned that it wouldn’t quite work out, or what might happen next, or did she expect more? Part of that is due to my own personality, I know. I am trying to arrange a fourth for this summer, for which complications are already cropping up. In a way, it is great to be involved, to be able to suggest something that I know she would love, to have the gratitude from the bride and friends at the end, for arranging a fun weekend away. To be a chosen one is a concrete affirmation of how important your friendship is to a person. Defining ‘best friends’ in a way that hasn’t been necessary since primary school. It gives a warm glow and makes attending a wedding that bit more exciting and meaningful.

I do wonder though, what it might be like to be invited to a wedding where I am not a bridesmaid. Perhaps I will find out one day?

Flitterbox: Candi Lauper ~ Girls Just Want To Have Fun

Telly Talk

Today, I have not watched television

This is not a ban, it is not a plan, it is not something I am proud to have managed. I have not watched television because I do not own one. 

It was an unessential expense at the time I moved in and would not be a cheap choice now. I can afford a television and it was always my intent to purchase one, but given that I've survived many months without it, I am increasingly doubting that I do require one after all. 

"How...can you not have a TV? What do you do in the evening?"

That's not to say I am any less sedentary or more productive as a result. Or even that I don't watch series or programmes that are shown on television.  People seem to forget the modern convenience and technology means you don't actually need a proper TV to be able to catch-up on your wanted watching. I have a laptop, I have Netflix access, 4OD, iTV player, BBC iPlayer. Having said that, I don't tend to watch that much; I spend screen time on the internet instead, or I listen to the radio. There's so much information out there, so many people's opinions, thoughts, reviews, suggestions that you can't possibly tire of it completely. There's not much room to be bored, these days. 

A television isn't a necessity for me, but it would be handy for guests and extending social invitations. As much as I love the idea that friends come over to chat, drink, eat and play games, that's not always the case. Sharing a film or show together can be as much a bonding experience as any other way of passing time,  It would be great to be able to say "come on over, let's watch this at mine". To curl up on the sofa with duvets and popcorn and see a film together. To arrange to have a weekly wine and Strictly session. To order-in pizza and consume an entire box-set back-to-back. 

So, as the new year and January sales roll around again, I am wondering - should I bite the bullet and buy a TV? Or save £300+ and spend that on a holiday instead? 

Flitterbox: The Buggles ~ Video Killed The Radio Star
Flitterbook: The State We're In ~ Adele Parks

Aux Bruxelles

Today, I have been recovering. 

The weekend began with a rush-hour train to London and a brisk walk to St. Pancras station. A glass of Merlot, train supplies from M&S and a half-hour delay later, we were on our way to Belgium. Prosecco, crisps and olives helped the journey pass quite pleasantly. 

Upon arrival in Brussels, we were met by our friend, a UK diplomat on a two-year secondment. Back at his apartment, the wine flowed along with the catch-up chat, before we headed to bed for a well-earned rest. A lazy morning with home-cooked breakfast (scrambled eggs and mushrooms on toast, fresh orange juice) was followed by a trip to the busy, busy Christmas market et beaucoup de vin chaud. C'etait bien.  After some tartiflette and a sit-down, we headed back to change for the evening. Genuis graduate professionals that we are, we thought it would be clever to squeeze five adults in an ancient apartment building lift. We just managed to close the doors. It was not a good idea. We got stuck. Half a floor up.

Yikes. 

If you've never got stuck in a lift before, but wondered how it would feel, what would you do; I'm not sure I can say. For the first minute, it was...it's fine, it will be okay. Just press the button again. Press the other button. There wasn't panic, but it was tense. It was stuffy. Did I mention we only just managed to squeeze in? It was tight. Press the call button. Is it ringing? No. Do we have signal? No. Press the alarm...is that someone coming? Are they talking to us?  

There was someone. He called the maintenance company. We forced open the lift doors and he opened the door. We had air. We had a friendly Flemish face, speaking fluent English. The maintenance had been informed. Trente minutes. Thirty minutes, shoulder to shoulder with four other people. We manged to take off our coats, one at a time, and pass them up to him. He stayed with us, he laughed with us, he took photos of us and half an hour passed quite quickly, considering the circumstances. We didn't consider what might happen if something went wrong; if there were further delays, if there were problems. If he couldn't get us out. 

We got out. Forty five minutes waiting then 5 mins of being winched manually back down to the ground floor. What a relief to be out. What an ordeal to deal with, in a foreign country. But we were okay, we were with friends. We survived. 

Later, we went to see the light show at Grand Place, which was fantastic. We went out for dinner and drinks, both delicious. If I were a true blogger, this entry would be filled with photos of the rest of the weekend and not a story documenting my own stupidity. But, the memories we make are built from the less than ordinary moments.

It was a good weekend. I would have liked to see more of the city, I would have liked to have a waffle. But when the Eurostar is less than 3 hours and under £70 return, there's plenty of chance for me to go again one day. 

I might take the stairs next time. 

Flitterbox: Coldplay ~ Christmas Lights

Gift Giving

Today, I have received a gift. 

Receiving presents makes me terribly uncomfortable. There's not a lot of stuff I really want or need. It is really sweet when someone buys me something small and thoughtful, or sends me something little in the post as a pick-me-up. It is nice to feel like someone cares about you, thinks about you.

But just giving loads of gifts, for the sake of it? Because you like buying gifts? It annoys me. Except, I am not allowed to be annoyed at it because they are doing it for me. I appreciate that I am very lucky and I am grateful, but it is the useless expense that bothers me. Why have you bought me this, why have you bought me so much? I didn't ask for it. I don't expect it. I don't want it. It's not humorous or meaningful; a shared joke or memory. It doesn't make me happy, it makes me feel guilty. 

I try to take the view that it is their money, that they get to choose how to spend it, and if it makes them happy to spend it on me, then the real gift is not the item but the way it makes them feel and my main role is to allow them their joy in purchasing presents for me. It sounds awful and ungracious to put it that way, I know. I'm sure there's plenty of people (although most of them not reading this) who would love someone to just show some sort of affection towards them through gift-giving. Who ask, would I miss it if I didn't have it? Would I prefer someone who didn't buy me gifts at all? 

Of course I appreciate the affection that is demonstrated in this routine. To have someone, who is always thinking of you first - buying you things before they buy themselves things. It is nice. But there are always other ways of doing that. I don't need all the stuff.

What do I do with all this stuff? Stuff I won't use; stuff that takes up space; stuff that costs large amounts of money and is never seen nor worn. The sensible thing is to tell the person you don't want the stuff. But to them, the stuff is their love. The stuff is them. To say you don't want the stuff is to say you don't want them. I can't understand it, to me, stuff is mostly just stuff and I have too much,  yet I am very bad at getting rid of it. 

Flitterbox: The Feeling ~ Same Old Stuff

Hollandaise Holidays

Today, I have put on my winter slippers.

Amsterdam was wonderful. It was like stepping out into a sunny film set every day, a scene manufactured to look like a quaint European city, except this was no Disneyland, this was real-life. The flowing canals with open-top boats chugging along in the afternoon sun, the cyclists trundling merrily across the cobbled streets on their way to work or play. We were so lucky with the weather, like summer had chosen to stay on longer, especially for our September break, and only now can it fall into Autumn.

Cheese tasting came highly recommended and didn't disappoint. My experience may have been influenced by the tall, blonde, fluent-in-three-languages Californian man who led the session, but it was also good value and felt authentically Dutch (apart from the American staff member...). It was interesting to learn about cheese-making and keeping and tastes and smells and consistency and differences, so yummy. I also learnt how to pronounce Gouda ("kHow-da") and damn, the wine was good.

From wine tasting to free wine at Boom Chicago. Comedy was not something I'd considered before arrival in the city, but we were urged to go by a representative whilst waiting in a queue for Anne Frank House, and it was better than I expected. The improv scenes and general set-up of the show were unlike anything I'd seen on stage before. It was quirky, funny and unusual; a great way to spend a couple of hours in the evening.

It was such a relaxing trip, we didn't rush about at all. We meandered, wandering back and forth along the canals, eating gelato or sitting in the park, soaking up the sun, the atmosphere and architecture; catching some street entertainment; practising yoga poses on the plein; browsing in a kitsch shop on a side alley. Amsterdam is a place to which I'd be happy to return, to live or to visit. The people were friendly and accommodating, the food was delicious and the whole place just felt cosy and comfortable. Gezelligheid.

Flitterbox:  Charlie XCX ~ Boom Clap

Flitterbook: The Road to Rouen ~ Ben Hatch 

September Spending

Today, I have been spending more in order to avoid delivery costs.

With September comes the panic-buying of knitwear to see me through the turn in the weather. I bought two cardigans of the same design in different colours (navy and purple) and then another jumper-type item and underwear, to push my order over the free delivery threshold. I don't like the top that much when tried on, yet can't be bothered to take it back, so essentially I paid £7 for delivery plus free knickers.

I bought a book for a fiver from here partly because someone told me to and partly because it was limted-time free delivery. It looks like it has some good tips, but I imagine it might sit on my shelf for a long while before I make use of any information contained within. I feel just owning it makes me seem like more of a functioning adult though.

I bought a backpack for city trekking and then a CD for a fiver, for the same delivery-charge avoidance reason. Also because I'm too lazy to make my own compilation for the car or work out how to connect miPod. Plus, the album art is pretty. Yes, I judged a CD by its cover.

To add to that, I have a few days away, full of meals out; museum visits; boat tours; travel tickets; wine-tasting, and the rest. September spending is yet to be curbed...

Flitterbox: Jessie J ~ Price Tag
Flitterbook: Road to Rouen ~ Ben Hatch