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Weddings. They're full of love. And it's an incredibly nice thing. They're also full of wine and champagne and the perfect time to dance like you've never danced before. It's the only time you can really get dolled up, pop your hank into your suit pocket, don those sandals and fancy clothing and feel all smushy and in love. It's also the only time that I think whooping through speeches, Beyonce shaking at slow dances, bum flashing in photobooths and secretly filling up on champagne makes me invincible and demand it the best night ever. I took it all back the following morning (and three days after) when even a fry up couldn't sort me out.
But in that day of our friends declaring their commitment to each other for the rest of their lives, for once in my life, it showed me that maybe marriage isn't all that bad and although people stare at you all day, it really doesn't matter. And that someday maybe Little B and I will be doing exactly the same, minus the above antics (although I can't actually guarantee it...) in a few years time. Love, it's a funny ole thing.