Marrying outside the gift box

As many of you know (because some of you are partly responsible), I have been to a lot of weddings in my life. This is in part because I have dated guys with thousands of relatives, and partly because I have successfully managed to stay in touch with a plethora of people from various stages in my life. Also, I’m really, really super popular.

In partaking of these numerous and sundry nuptials, I have seen many a crazy thing.

A wee sampling:

• A Scientology ceremony based on readings from L. Ron Hubbard’s Dianetics


• A portrait, sitting on an easel on the dance floor, of an extremely unattractive just-married couple, buck naked, posed with a strategically positioned cat


• Audible vomiting, done by the brother of the bride during the ceremony


• A tattoo across the bride’s back of some other non-groom guy’s name, thanks to an ill-chosen strapless dress


• Tables named after Lord of the Rings characters and a groom who walked in to the Imperial March


• A bride’s father’s testicles (love you, Erin)

The only thing better than witnessing these fantastic events is the fact that I’ve had the pleasure of dining out on the resulting stories. Conversation hit a lull? Let me tell you about the time I heard a bride scream the words, “Oh my god, my dad’s balls!” When it comes to getting the conversational juices flowing, let me tell ya, it works like a charm.

These glorious matrimonial moments are fodder for the OckleShow Dinner Theatre not only because of their trainwreckery, but also because they depart so deliciously and defiantly from the boring, manicured wedding mould (yeah, it has a “u” here. Who knew?). Good or bad, planned or retina-burning shock of your life, what makes a wedding memorable is the stuff that’s uber-personal...and unexpected.

Take, for example, Alex’s friend’s wedding in Ramsgate/Broadstairs, Kent last Friday night. The bride wore bright yellow. They served fish and chips for dinner. The entertainment was a beach band wearing Lycra unitards. The party started at the pub at 10:30 a.m. The best men’s speech included a slide of a stripper’s breasts.

It was such a fun time.

Case in point, the beautiful couple. I am obsessed with the dress, and on the rainiest day ever, it was like the sun...

...especially later, when it was positioned slightly closer to the sky...

My wedding buddy and fellow Midwesterner, Jen.

Life as it should be...

The beach just outside the reception hall.

The next day, a little worse for the wear, but no less happy to be taking in the local sights.

On Saturday, we headed back to London in time to have dinner with my dad's cousin in my latest Dining With Long-Lost Relatives series. On Sunday, Alex and I went to see Matthew Bourne's interpretation of The Picture of Dorian Gray, aka the hottest ticket in town right now:

It was almost unrecognizable from the book: Dorian is gay, the ballerina is a boy, the mentor figure is a woman, the portrait is a perfume ad, it's set in modern times, and oh yeah, the whole thing was done in modern dance. It was AMAZING. If you're in the UK, don't miss it before it's gone!

So anyway, now it's back to the grind. I was supposed to go to Dusseldorf tomorrow for work, but it has been cancelled at the last minute. Since this weekend is the last I have in town before I leave for the States next week, it will be all laundry all the time. We got a new washing machine...AND a cleaning lady who does our ironing!! Yep, I am one happy gal.