My best friend ('Ssup Donk) and I have this ongoing joke when we're having a really, really , REALLY fun time you, where we say "Hope you're having more fun than a drunken Auntie at a wedding with her shoes off."
Additions we may add to the description of this wild woman include:
- Screaming WAHOO! everytime a new song comes on.
- Hollering and whooping inappropriately all throughout the speeches, or switching 'Yay' for 'Bravo' in a nod to the Italian element of the wedding.
- Bobbing side-to-side on the dancefloor in a hip-shaky way with a two-year old plastered gaily to her hip, when she doesn't even possess enough balance for herself.
She's no myth, this drunken Auntie.
She be me.
But OH, it was fun. And really, you don't stand out when everyone else is having just as fine a time, and doing exactly the same thing, do you? Until you see the photos and video, of course. Whatever. Every circus needs its clown.
Possibly the reason I was so deliriously excitable, was that I'd spent a good part of the day frantically doing makeup for the Beautiful Bride and her two amigos. And as anyone that's been around during Lady Wedding Preparation will attest, one does not eat during this time, although one may sip on warm fizz occasionally, sheerly out of nervy anticipationy stuff.
But I was just stupidly happy too.
All seven of my siblings and their 768 offspring were there (I think the rule is: The more of an Auntie you are, the more of a Drunken Auntie you are by law, allowed to be) and the wedding itself was just beautiful and the adorable little hall we ate and danced in was a baboon's toenail away from Taronga Zoo and so the reception overlooked the whole shiny Sydney harbour, and The Bridge and that crazy opera house, and there were wild little kookaburras and possums hanging right down onto the verandah all night, probably looking for food, but maybe they just like listening to James Brown and really, who has the authority to speak on their behalf?
I know I'm supposed to post photos of the wedding makeup I did, but in my post-Drunken Auntie haze, I can't find the fricken cord that goes from my camera to my poota.
Which makes me a liar.
GREAT. Day RUINED.
So all I've got is this one from my phone of myself and Marco - the progeny of the happy couple and probably the real star of the wedding (Which two-year old is still jumping 'round like a loon at 10pm after no nap? (Hint: This one)) - chilling before walking the Bridal Collective down to their beach wedding.
(I didn't do his makeup of course.)
(He'd already ducked into the M.A.C. counter before I arrived.)
