Weekend fun times

This past weekend was very nice and relaxed. A lot of it was filled with George and I planning stuff for the wedding, but luckily we're both of the mindset of "Let's just make a decision and go with it" because neither of us really feel like stressing over this too much. I can see how people would easily drive themselves crazy trying to plan the "perfect wedding." George and I do want a very nice wedding (and it will be nice!) but why not make it simple and understated? We quickly took care of flowers by walking into the florists with George's mother and picking out the first pretty arrangement we saw that would match the pink and blue walls of the ceremony room. It was a simple arrangement of white roses surrounded by some greenery. Done and done. Then we went to get a key made for me so that George and his mom don't have to sacrifice their keys every day. And then George and I headed back to John and Lewis (for the final time!) to pick out the last few items for our gift list. We then got measured for wedding rings which we later ordered online for a very cheap price (cause we ain't got money to just be shoveling out on rings) and finally went to get our wedding cake which was actually supposed to be a birthday cake, but OMG it looks so chocolately and delicious who cares if it's "supposed" to be a birthday cake, right? Although I can't deny I was quite intrigued by the white chocolate and raspberry cake... maybe for another occasion.

So pow! All that wedding planning taken care of in about half a day. Go us! We lazed around for a while after all that running about and looked up some different dance clubs in Bristol cause I love to DANCE! Many of them sounded promising, but many of them also sounded like electro- Euro-pop trash that, despite fast beats, is very difficult to actually groove to and leaves you with no self-respect in the morning. We ended up going to a club called "The Lanes," which is a 50's/60's-styled place complete with bowling lanes and a pool table. We didn't actually bowl (although we did play a few games of pool) but we did dance a good bit to the all-girl line up they had going that night. The selection was very eclectic from hippy-licious dance tracks of the 60s, lipstick punk bands, cheesy 80's pop, and more modern fare from MIA and Gwen Stefani. Of course once the dance floor really got going, they started playing that Euro-pop stuff and some alternative music that wasn't really very danceable at all. Way to kill the dancefloor, DJ! (And no, I wasn't the only one who shared this sentiment... the dance floor quickly dwindled after that crap). Luckily I had already been dancing most of the night cause unlike most people, I'm not intimidated by an empty or nearly empty dance floor. Someone's gotta start the party, right? The only other notable occurance of the night was when George and I were outside kissing (not making out, mind you, we weren't being overly inappropriate) and some guy yelled in a less-than-thrilled tone, "Ugh, look at the faggot's kissing!" to which George yelled "And fucking loving it!" His friends quickly told him he was a douche, though, so hopefully he learned his lesson.

The Lanes was fun, but not quite the fun we had imagined. It probably would be a great place to go if you had several friends and actually did want to bowl (and if someone tells the DJ what's up). The highlight of the evening, though, was just walking from the car into the club ("we migrate...") and back again at the end of the night. The streets were extremely lively with young people like myself out for a good time and drunk people who may have had too much of a good time. We passed by numerous clubs and bars and parks full of drunkies. Amazing how the downtown space can be transformed so quickly into a drunken free-for-all.

Sunday was a very lazy day ("Lazy Sunday, wake up in the afternoon...") though there was no chronic nor Narnia involved. George and I woke up and put on Tootsie which I purchased for only £2 believe it or not. George had never seen it before so I had to share its brilliance with him. It was so much funnier than I remember it.

Afterwards we went to the Blaise Castle Estate which is a huge park with open fields filled with picnic-ing families, children flying kites, people laying out for sun, and dogs running about aimlessly (including the two biggest dogs I've ever seen! They were freaking ginormous! Lurchers, George said they were). There's also a large playground that even looked appealing to my adult-sized body and a little cafe to take care of those hunger pangs. In addition to the open fields, there are lots of nature trails through wooded areas and lots of hills from which you can catch a good glimpse of the surrounding landscape. You can even see Wales from here (granted it's probably close enough for me to walk there in a day). George and I spent a few hours just wandering about all the trails in a peaceful splendor and picking more blackberries with a delicious pie in mind. We also went to the Blaise Castle House Museum which is where we'll be having our civil partnership ceremony. The house is beautiful, filled with objects from the rich family that once lived in the house/on the estate. The picture room is where we're having our ceremony. It's filled with paintings of beautiful landscapes from all over Europe. It's a very lively yet calm room at the same time which is illuminated by the rays of the sun (assuming it's sunny outside), perfect for a wedding.

We came home after several hours at Blaise and vegetated until dinner which George's mother called traditional Sunday dinner fare. I swear everything here is "tradition." Brits seem very proud of their history and many like George's father pretend like America has none. Oh but America's history is the history of the world in many ways all culminating in one giant jumblefuck of who knows what. At least the Brits do have a very definite idea of what their history and tradition is. But perhaps I've generalizing a bit much... I tend to do that when I have nothing else smart to say. But anyway, the "traditional" Sunday dinner - pot roast (which of course I didn't eat), potatoes, carrots, and cauliflower with cheese sauce. Whether traditional or no, it was sufficient to fill my little belly. We followed it up with some apple and blackberry cobbler that George's mom made. Nothing like a tasty cobbler... if only they had more peaches here. The rest of the evening was pretty lazy, just stewing in front of the TV whilst George had his weekly one hour bath. He has to take a bath every Sunday at exactly 10PM or the universe will implode. It's cute, though.

To end on a fun note (cause most silly things like blogs should end on a fun note), here's some British curses that I particularly enjoy, far more interesting than American cursing:

cuntfanny

cunting (as an adj.)

knobhead

knobend

bollocks

wanker

bugger

tits (maybe not a curse, but a good exclamation nonetheless!)

I'm sure there are plenty more... I'll just have to keep my ears open!

Thanks for reading as always!