My initial intentions for this blog have fallen miserably by the wayside already. You see, I'd planned to update every weekend but... I've missed at least one weekend, if not two.
My excuse for last weekend however was that I was just busy. I spent Friday, Saturday, Sunday at Deena's* hen weekend. And boy, did I feel like a fish out of water...
You see, Deena isn't even a friend. She's a work friend of my actual BBF Adele, and I've hung out with Deena exactly 4 times prior to last weekend.
Time 1: A random night out with Adele, some uni friends of hers, and Deena. We probably said 3 sentences to each other.
Time 2: Adele's hen weekend, perhaps another 3 sentences exchanged.
Time 3: I was randomly invited to Deena's 30th birthday party. Bare in mind, that up until this point, I'd only met her twice, in a crowd. Soooo... not exactly besties. I did wonder why I was invited, but just saw it as an opportunity to hang out with my BFF and have some free food.
Time 4: Deena's hen weekend. I dunno why I was invited. Is Deena seriously short of mates or just the friendliest person in history? Again, I went along in my spirit of "saying yes more" and taking the opportunity to gather more experiences.
So... 4 times and I'm already part of the so-called inner circle of mates. So I pretty much attended every event for the weekend, despite not actually being invited to the wedding (which believe me, I'd have been seriously weirded out if I had been). At the end of each event, there was much "see you at the wedding!" with accompanying air-kisses, to which I smiled sweetly and silently thought, "nope."
Event 1 - Friday night: "Pamper Night" at Deena's house. Drinks and nibbles provided. "Pampering" consisted of the buy-one-get-one-free style of facemasks-in-a-packet. Chocolate coloured/scented no less. Deena's mother was a hippy-dressed, foul mouthed chav. Who did little more than tell stories that began with the phrase "I was 'avin' a fag when..." and punctuated with curse words. A real charmer.
Event 2 - An afternoon at the recording studio. Pretty good fun, because I love a sing-song. Got myself on the song 'Man, I feel Like A Woman' after Deena's 17 year old cousin cried when she couldn't get her entry right. I stepped in to fill the breach while she sat in the mixing room and sniffled in a corner.
Oh no. Wait. She wasn't 17. I asked Adele later. She's 28. 20 friggin' 8. She was baby-faced, sure, but who the hell cries when they can't get a daft song on a hen weekend right? Who the hell cares? Sorry, but what a div. I have no respect for that, especially when the rest of us are sent out the room so she can have a sympathy-sing with Deena "without an audience". Don't think you've got a future as a recording artist Lisa* love.
Event 3: Afternoon tea at Fawsley Hall. Pleasant enough, but not as nice as the tea I had at Rushton Hall earlier in the year.
This was on the Sunday afternoon. I'd turned down the opportunity for a meal out/drinks/partying on the Saturday, because I'd spent enough money and didn't actually give a shit.
Don't get me wrong, Deena is sweet enough. But we've really got nothing in common, apart from Adele. We're not friends. Mostly it just felt a bit strange. And I didn't give a whatsit whether she was marrying or not. Like I said, I barely know the girl. It felt a bit like I was gate-crashing, but I was invited specially and greeted warmly at each event... *shrug*
*Deena and Lisa's names have been changed to protect their identities.