And so the third weekend arrived over the weekend, of my longtime schoolfriend. The one who all the girls in my school fancied. Well, not all of them but it seemed like all the ones who knew me fancied him.
Let it be stated, for the record and Google, Matthew James Owen is an utter cad for pulling off the best grooms speech I have ever heard in my life. An epic rhyming poem to match anything from a Greek scholar, the only poem I know to have almost graphically gone into the realities of how University-based relationships start in their fumblings, but to do it in such a charming way that even the grannies were laughing.
Even the wedding photographer was daring, climbing onto the roof of the hotel to take what is sure to be a fantastic aerial shot.
Of course, the slight snag with weddings is that it does make you grade your life and relationships (especially drunkenly at 2.30am) and at the moment I do score a big fat zero in that department. And after this September, I think I’m the only single man left in Cardiff. So it would seem.
One more wedding to go, and that’s it for 2004. I think.