I’m an introvert and spending a significant amount of time with other people, especially ex-inlaws, just exhausts me. I’m glad to be back home.
H and I headed down to Wellington for her cousin’s wedding. She was the official photographer. On the way to Wellington we stopped at Paraparaumu for me to have one last look for shoes to wear. I was getting pretty desperate, as you can imagine. My backup was a pair of boots. However, I looked in Hannah’s and found two pairs which actually fitted and weren’t uncomfortable. Not being able to decide, I bought both. Who’d have thought (after months of searching)? One of the shoes had only just arrived in the store. There were some awesome-looking boots on sale as well but they were small so I showed them to H who looked fantastic in them and bought them. Lunch in the car, well satisfied, and onwards. We stayed in the same building as C’s apartment on The Terrace (for the first night, which was complementary after I complained about a previous stay there), and ate the previous night’s leftovers for dinner. We headed over to H’s aunt’s place in the evening for a brief visit and arrangements for the next day.
H left early the next morning to photograph the bride and groom getting ready. After she left, as I was packing up, there was quite a jolt and an earthquake shook the building for some time. I was thankful it wasn’t the big one. I checked out then went to C’s place. C had just arrived from Melbourne. We hung out for a bit then I headed over the road to check in at the James Cook hotel (I got a cheap deal). I got apparel sorted and H’s cousin, A, picked me up to take me over to their place where we were to get ready for the wedding at the Dowse Art Gallery in Lower Hutt.
There was no art work to be seen. The wedding was in a separate area of two plain rooms. There was no decoration at all. (There were fake petals on the tables and artificial candles.) I feel like one of those women in the ‘Four weddings’ TV programme (where they judge each others’ weddings) as I make comments about the wedding.
The bride and groom had been living together for some time, so they had a three-year old and a three-week old. The three-year old had obviously not been told about what happens at weddings. She clung to her parents and refused to be pried off her father so half the ceremony was conducted with a child clinging to the groom. As someone said later, she ruined the ceremony. Why some relative didn’t take her in hand and be firm, I don’t know. It happened again when they were trying to cut the cake. I was not impressed.
After the ceremony, H took the couple out for photos while the rest of us stood around and talked with drinks. All the cousins and their kids were there, as well as aunts, uncles, and grandparents, and, unfortunately, the ex and his third wife. I was glad to see that he hasn’t aged well. His wife ignored me when she greeted someone standing next to me, but then grudgingly acknowledged my existence. She was all over the ex at one stage, as if I gave a shit. She must’ve been feeling insecure. She’s welcome to the arsehole. I can’t stand the sight of him.
The bride’s large family were also there, of course, but there was no mingling between the two families at all.
We finally had something to eat after the speeches but there was a very long wait between the main meal and dessert. The dessert was disappointing. Some very sweet cheesecake crammed into a small jar and a bread and berry ‘pudding’. There was no fruit. One of C’s cousins, B, is a chef and thought the dessert very poor. I never saw what the wedding cake had in it. It was a small cake on top of a tier of cupcakes. The guests were given the cupcakes. After dessert, we sat around for ages, bored, and people started leaving. Finally some music was put on but only the kids danced, as adults stood around in a circle watching them. It was bizarre. One of the strangest weddings I’ve ever been to. By the time some adults got up and danced, C and I were tired and ready to head to bed.
I was glad to get back to the hotel room, which was more spacious and comfortable than the previous night’s stay.
H and I wandered around town the next morning, knowing that C would be up late. We met C and W later and had lunch together at a Malaysian restaurant. We had a look at a Gregory Crewdson exhibition on the way back to the car. We had been invited to a cousin’s place, as well as the two aunts, and didn’t think we could manage to visit all three. I had left a cardigan at the cousin’s place so headed there first. One of the aunts and family were there, so we killed two birds with one stone. Unfortunately, the ex and his wife were there having lunch. They had just been to India and gave C and H a silver bangle each. The wife was telling them how much silver the bangles contained, that they were very expensive and not to go throwing them around. Does she think they’re 5 years old? Stupid cow. She has such an annoying higher-pitched whiney voice. I know it sounds bitchy, and she’s way nicer than wife number 2, but she’s still up herself and selfish. H has given me various examples, so I’m not judging purely on my experiences with her alone. She told H that she’s going to do a diploma in photography and that she and H could go round taking photos together. This from a woman I’ve never seen with a camera in hand.
We decided we had time to visit aunt number 2 but ex and wife were also going there, so we had to put up with their presence at the next place too. I was bored shitless by now and just wanted to leave. They finally buggered off before us so H and I managed to get away before their return for dinner. I said goodbye to C who was flying back to Melbourne on Monday.
Arrived home exhausted and I’m glad it’s not a working day (although it is for H). The highlight of the weekend had been the time with C and H and the photography exhibition. Sad but true. I have absolutely nothing in common with any of the ex’s family (and their giant TVs), and there are too many painful memories to be completely relaxed around them, nice though they are to me (at least superficially).
Dawn through a grimy window, Wellington
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