In the morning I really regretted not getting home until 2 AM the night before, when my alarm went off at 6:30 AM. Still, there was nothing for it, so I dragged myself up and through the shower, did my hair, and got myself to King's Cross to catch the train.
My timing was pretty much perfect, as I got to Cambridge at 10 AM, caught the bus into town, and was at college by 10:30. Yet when I entered the chapel, there was nobody there! I was starting to worry, until just a few minutes later, all of my friends entered en masse, as apparently they had been at the local pub. Setting the tone for this wedding, for sure!
We all got ourselves seated in the chapel, and it was great being back. The whole place looked so familiar, yet it was funny to see it during the daytime without everyone wearing gowns. For a chapel that had always struck me as being so elegant when lit by candlelight, it was remarkably stark and bare during the daylight. Yet simple and uncluttered, I suppose a lovely place to get married, really.
When the bride made her entrance, I was absolutely struck by how she looked. I always knew that this wasn't going to be a traditional wedding (the couple are too unconventional for that), but even I was surprised by the champagne-coloured haute couture dress, the little birdcage veil, and the whole sophisticated, sexy effect. Not like any other bride I've ever seen, but it still totally suited her.
The wedding service was lovely, and we even got to sing "Jerusalem", a traditional English hymn. We all remarked on how the college chaplain looked as though he were 15 years old, and I was utterly shocked later to learn that he was 35. Seriously, even my best guesses had placed him at 25, at the oldest.
Unfortunately the skies opened up and there was a quick downpour as we exited the church, but that just gave us the chance to run to the pub and start drinking. I hadn't had a single drop to drink all morning, not even water, and after my night the night before, I was hungry and incredibly thirsty. When I was handed that first glass of champagne, although I like champagne anyway, this absolutely tasted like nectar from the gods. So sparkly, so light, so refreshing. Just a perfect way to start the wedding reception.
I had sort of wondered how this reception would work, given that the Pick, our favourite pub, is a small, classically English pub, with lots of low ceilings and a rabbit warren of space, not exactly suited to a large, open reception. Yet, in the end it really did, as people kept just wandering between rooms, chatting to whoever they happened to run into in the next space.
I found myself talking quite a bit to a chap who was a friend of the bride but didn't know anybody else there. He was a vet who did research on canine diabetes, which meant that like nearly everyone at the wedding, he had a doctorate. (I think I was one of about 5 people present who didn't have a PhD. It was quite the crowd to feel dumb in!) Not sure if he kept chatting to me because he was interested in me or just because I was nice and friendly and he didn't know anybody there.
We were all delighted when food was served, and got ourselves into a line to eat some hog roast. They had the entire pig on a spit, it looked absolutely delicious. (And truth be told, we had been helping ourselves to the crackling, or roasted skin, the entire time while it roasted).
We then mostly continued to stand around drinking and chatting with people, as thankfully the weather had cleared. Then Helen had the inspired idea to go see if she could sweet-talk the porters into giving us the key to the punts to go punting. Amazingly, she did manage to pull it off, and right around sunset we unlocked the puts and set out on the river. I'd forgotten how much I love punting, it was so wonderfully relaxing and just great to drift along the Cam past all of the colleges again. Made me fall in love with Magdalene all over again. We took the bride's mother with us, and luckily one of the boys wanted to prove how big and strong he was, so all I had to do was sit and slowly drift along the water, enjoying being back in a punt in Cambridge, more relaxed than I could ever remember and without a care in the world.
We finally returned back to the pub as the skies grew dark and thunder crackled overhead, and although there had originally been plans to move on to another fancy bar, we all decided just to stay at the pub and keep drinking. So as you might imagine, memories of the evening grow a bit hazy...
There was lots of talking with old friends, and people I had known way back when who I didn't keep in touch with, but enjoyed catching up with. I found myself talking with AS a lot, a guy from Magdalene who had always struck me as just another drunken lout when I'd been there, but who has turned out to be the most sensitive and sweet of guys, super-smart and devoted to his girlfriend (has just moved to Australia to be with her, and was back as part of a work trip). At one point, this woman came through selling glowsticks for charity, and AS bought me one in the exact shade that matched my dress. And it was funny because it was so sweet and thoughtful, better than any rose or flower as a gentlemanly gesture. Best present from a boy ever.
It was funny too, as I realised how many of my former hook-ups were in one place, making me realise I had more fun at Magdalene than I had realised. At least one mystery was solved for me when this one chap that I hooked up with years ago (back when we were at Magdalene) kept barely saying hello to me (even though I am normally able to carry on pleasant conversations with all of my former flames), and the groom finally caught me in a corner at one point and said, "So I understand that the two of you once had a thing?" I was too surprised that he even knew to cover up my reaction, as I have never spoken a word of it to anyone. So I knew the boy himself was responsible for kissing and telling. And suddenly it made sense, because he'd been an idiot and told all of his friends, and so therefore didn't want to arouse suspicions (particularly those of his new wife who apparently has a jealous streak). And so now it meant he couldn't talk to me. What a weirdo. Too bad, because he is otherwise well-liked and regarded by all of his friends.
And the funny thing is, after a long time of being so well-behaved, it was a pleasure to be back with boys who knew the value of being a bit naughty. I found myself smoking cigars with all of the boys out back, and dealing with cheeky boys who solicitously offered to get me more drinks to my face, while having slightly wandering hands down to my bum in back. I suppose it tells you how much wine was consumed, in that I didn't mind at all.
I'd originally bought a day ticket, but my plans of going home on the 11:15 PM train were totally shot by 10:30 PM, particularly when AS and JG said I could crash with them. (Ah yes, good old JG, who has appeared in this blog before and who was one of those boys whose hands were wandering a bit freely. But damn him, that weird latent attraction between us is so strong that I just didn't mind.
So at some point, I ended up in cab with JG and AS, and went with them back to their hotel room, where they had a double bed and a single bed. AS loaned me a shirt to sleep in, and the two of them bunked up so that I could have the single bed to myself. Admittedly, I had been being a bit flirtatious with JG, and so once the lights were out, he climbed right into bed with me. Now of course, in my present state, I was quite happy to see him there, but with AS still right in the room? So I whispered in JG's ear, "Don't you think we should wait for him to fall asleep first?" and so he climbed back into bed with AS. I suppose I should have seen what was coming, because while waiting for one boy to fall asleep, they both did! Oh well, it's probably for the best...
In the morning, we woke up stupidly early (7 AM) to watch the World Cup rugby game of England vs Georgia (the country). It was actually a good game despite having no Johnny Wilkinson, as England absolutely steamrolled Georgia in the final 20 minutes of the game. I actually enjoyed exchanging a running commentary of the game back-and-forth with AS, while JG seemed to be in particularly bad shape and just curled up in the blanket to die. I guess he'd had a bit more than the rest of us!
Finally, the game was over and I figured I should head back to London, taking JG with me (who was doing really quite poorly). So we sorted a cab, I got JG into it and down to the station, and took care of the fare and everything else.
On the station platform, we ran into Tristan's New Flatmate, who I had met for the first time at the wedding the day before, and who I had been VERY interested in. It wasn't looks for sure, as he had a bit of a receding hairline and a figure that showed a bit too much time in front of a computer and too little out on a rugby pitch. But yet, he also towered over me, with this large, reassuring presence of a former rugby player, which is definitely my "type". And he just seemed so darn nice, and was so well-liked by all of the other boys, that it was hard not to see in him the same things they did.
Unfortunately for me, I got absolutely no "vibe" from him at all. He just seemed to find me to be an amusing friend of Tristan's, good company for the journey home, but nothing more. I even found an excuse to give him my card, but have heard nothing since. {Sigh!}
Still, he indulged me in conversation for the journey home, as I was feeling surprisingly alert and chipper, and he was nearly passing out from hangover and exhaustion. (At one point he finally did beg my forgiveness while he just had to desperately close his eyes for 10 minutes). But he seemed to do work that was somewhat similar to what I do in theory, but a lot more interesting (advising research professors on grant applications), and we chatted a lot about rugby, playing guitar (I swoon for men who play guitar), and was just such a great combination of intelligence and humour. I can only imagine what he must have thought of me, the girl still wearing the same clothes from the day before, crashing over with AS and JG. And just to put the nail in the coffin, not only is JG one of his flatmates (so that would be awkward), his best friend from forever is the chap who apparently told about our hookup years ago and now barely talks to me. So in the lore of "bros before hos", I obviously am in a very losing position. Still, I can always hope that he's nice to me as a fellow graduate of Magdalene, and perhaps I can improve my standing in his eyes another day...
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