Oh. My. Word.

What an exhausting weekend. I haven't been on for a while, what with This and her friend That. It is totally TROPICAL here in Stockers.

I went to Edinburgh, hereafter for brevity referred to as Embra, for the weekend. Richard Mellanby (with a Swedish surname!) was getting married, so I went. It was fun. I got rather drunk, danced the Dashing White Sergeant, saw lots of people I hadn't seen in an aeon, and sang 'Can You Hear Me Calling?', the best Number 1 that never was. To near-unanimous applause!

Getting to Embra was hecticity in itself - a bus from Stockers to Skavsta airport (only 90 minutes away! A stonesthrow!), then a nighttime trip in a bus from Prestwick, then a £20 taxiride to collect the keys to where I was staying. Phew.

The wedding happened in Roslin Chapel (sp?) which is apparently dead famous because of the Da Vinci Code. Which I have neither read nor seen. It was nice.

Then the reception in the Assembly Rooms. Oh and Jon was late, causing me to totally brassneck the entire bus on the way to Penicuik so they would wait 5 more minutes. "And if anyone has a problem, could they raise their hand? No? OK!"

Sunday was more hecticity. My sister and my cousin came with me to Harvey Nichols for lunch. Very sunny and very very chatty. Phew. Then drinks with other Uni friends, then getting v v drunk and eversoslightly shouty with the nursery Thingboxer. I ask you.

Then yesterday, hangover from the depths of the abyss, homemade humus and sushi, bus to Prestwick, much much much chattage with Pauline (*heart*) and then back on the plane. After a hair of the dog pint of Stella.

Today, back to Kaffebar with Ulla, recounting of events, in desertlike heat!

And now I am going out for a pint in a gay bar and I am going to learn some Swedish.

Lalala.