*IRONY*
Well, Linda's wedding went of well and she and Ian are at present honeymooning in South Africa looking at large animals roaming in the wild.
The whole thing had been planned with military precision so it went more or less like clockwork. I stayed down in Surrey overnight so I as there at hand from the offset. Dad and I got ourselves into our morning suits and were raring to go. By the time Linda was back from the hairdresser's after the makeover, I was off to the church ready to do my ushering bit.
The service went well. Linda looked radiant. Mum looked splendid in her new togs. Dad gave Linda away with his chest puffed out with pride looking resplendent. We all trouped off to the vestry and I witnessed the event in the registry book. Lots of photographs were taken. Now I know what it's like to be cornered by the paparazzi. We did all of that in the church because, one bad note of the day, it pissed down with rain. And I have to say that that has been the one rainy day so far in the whole of October.
And then it was the bridal breakfast. I've never enjoyed a meal less. Not because it wasn't good food but because I was scheduled to do the Father of the Bride's speech. We'd decided as a family that I'd probably make a better stab at it than dad would. He gets very nervous on such occasions and I have much more experience than he does at public speaking. However, It was one of the most nerve-racking things I've ever done in my life. I suppose it was because it was a one shot event and because it was family rather than career.
I don't remember that much about it. I know I felt sick afterwards and, because I was driving, couldn't lam into the champagne. However, everyone tells me that I made a good fist of it. Both mum and dad told me I'd done them proud and, well, that's what really mattered.
As soon as I could, I was off to the Barbican to join Ross and Sean and Colin for a performance of Britten's Turn of the Screw by the Royal Opera. It was good though I can't say I liked the production but the work itself is one of my favorites.
So, the weekend passed and I'm glad that the wedding is now behind me. I feel like I can get on with a few things now. It's been like this storm cloud gathering on the horizon for months. I'm pleased for Linda and Ian that it went so well. But I'm still angry deep inside that I was there only as a part of myself and not as me, David Guy, gay man, with my partner Ross. It's a hurt I can live with.
Work continues, by the way, to be a trial.
And then to cap it all, in the middle of the week, Ross was told by his doctor that he may have ME. He's hardly been in to College and he's finding himself increasingly worn out just by travel. He's lethargic and sleeping long hours. Still functioning, to be sure, but increasingly out of it. We are going to have to start taking things at a more leisurely pace.
Friday night and Ross and I meet up with Colin again to see La Grand Scena.
It's an evening of high camp but I remain resolutely unengaged. Perhaps I'm just too
concerned about Ross and strung out over work at present to fully relax. The benefits
of the holiday in Sitges seem a long way away.
*IRONY* *IRONY*
Roland and Colin are coming to visit this weekend. The problem with having a busy diary is that it takes some while to sort it out to make some space.