This weekend my life becomes the film ‘Bridesmaids’ – apart from the fact that I am not Kristen Wiig and I am not a bridesmaid. Aside from that, the similarities are uncanny.
This weekend I am off to a hen party. Actually, a hen weekend. A weekend of organised fun. The bride in question is a friend from uni, and the weekend’s guest list will consist of two parts of the blushing bride-to-be’s life. One part is her new friends, the friends that came along with the fiancé. The new friends are sophisticated, have sensible jobs and drive reliable cars. The second part is the old friends (of which I am a part of ) who she went to uni with. We know all her dirty secrets. We’ve been through the highs, the lows, the blows and the sick. We aren’t so sophisticated, we are clinging to our jobs and, I can’t speak for the others, ride a bicycle.
The brides’ concern is keeping her old life separate from her new life and my concern is not saying anything stupid.
It is going to be a long weekend.
P.s. So everyone is clear, I see myself as the Kristen Wiig character. I am not the one who will get the trots in the wedding dress shop. That can be the others.