I had one of those great weekends this week. I have to admit that I wasn’t really feeling the plans (it was a friend’s hen do), and while I was very much up for seeing my friends (who came from far and wide), I wasn’t initially looking forward to the activities (for the sole reason it touches on some difficult spots for me).
The plans were to go for breakfast, head to a spa, return to the bride-to-be’s mum’s house for plenty of drinks and then go for a photoshoot. Breakfast? Yep, that’s ok, I can cope with that. A spa? You mean I have to get my fat, wobbly body out? Really?! I feel nauseous. I’m sure I’ll make other people feel nauseous too. I’ve never been to one before… What do I take, what’s the etiquette, how am I going to cope? And photographs? There is going to be documented evidence that I look like a gelatinous blob… in a dress (yeah, yeah, I know I have a Photo page on the blog, so it’s not like I’m completely photo-phobic, but this is different).
Ok… first thing’s first – breakfast can’t be anything that makes me windy (no one wants added bubbles in the Jacuzzi after all!). Porridge? Yes, porridge is a good idea. What do I take? Who can I ask? Twitter! Thank you Lucy – I followed your advice and went completely prepared. Ok, bag packed, all necessary areas shaved.
As we arrived at the spa and checked in, I could feel my anxiety beginning to kick in (though I think I did a marvellous job of not showing it outwardly). We got changed and headed up to the spa. No one died from seeing my lily white thunder thighs, nor did they recoil in horror at my wobbliness or cry at the sight of my cellulite.
It was really, really relaxing. Except for the bit where I nearly broke my neck putting wet feet into flip flops and walking down some stairs. I enjoyed the catch up with friends, fizz in the Jacuzzi, roasting in the sauna, melting in the steam room and sitting in the outdoor hot tub while a storm gathered out at sea (you couldn’t see the horizon for the rain at one point), and continuing to sit there as the rain pelted down, watching holiday makers run for cover.
As our time to leave came, I debated having my feet eaten by the garra rufa fish, but decided to spare them the horror of my toes on this occasion. Thoroughly relaxed, I dropped my friend home and headed back to my house to have a shower (the smell of chlorine is definitely not relaxing).
Reshowered, I packed my bag for the photoshoot, feeling sad that I don’t have any nice clothes to wear to such an event. I picked an old tunic type dress type thing and my wedding shoes (noted: non-scale victory in being able to get back in to the dress!). Nothing else fitted, so with those two items, I headed off to the mother-of-the-bride-to-be’s, where we congregated for nibbles and cocktails whilst getting ready (though I’m not sure strong cocktails and GHD straighteners are ever a good combination). It was like being back at uni – we did each other’s hair, fished through make-up bags and compared shoes and outfits. The rain continued to come down quite heavily, so we made sure that we packed the straighteners, make-up and wore our day clothes on the train.
The train was delightful. Yes, I am being sarcastic. As we waited for the train, there was a young couple mucking around, being a little bit loud and obnoxious. They were probably in their early 20s. Bearing in mind that it was only about 5pm, I did think it was a bit early for them to be drunk, so decided that they were just obnoxious. They got on the train half a carriage down from us, and started acting up properly as we were about to get off at our station. I shot them a look, and the girl said something like “oh, she doesn’t like you”. He retorted “Well, she’s getting off the train now, so her 95 stone will mean we can go quicker”.
I don’t think any of my friends heard the comment, and if I hadn’t been so relaxed from earlier in the day or the fact that it was my friend’s hen party, I probably would have foregone getting off at that stop and had a go (and would have promptly burst into tears out of sight). I tried to let it go over me, but it stung. It still stings now. Then I think that maybe I am just being a fuddy-duddy in my attitude and shouldn’t have given him a funny look in the first place (though how you look at someone, who is thrusting at the toilet door and shouting to his girlfriend that he could do her in there, other than with distain, I don’t know).
Minor hiccup aside, we arrived at Orange Cat Photography and got started. I am not one for posing in front of others, and it does make me quite uncomfortable, but Sarah, the photographer, was amazing at putting everyone at ease. We all enjoyed the session, and I couldn’t wait to see the results. I’ve never had professional photos done outside of school/graduation pictures before, so I was really interested to see what they come out like. For the wardrobe dilemma, I did exchange dresses with a friend so had more than just the one dress to wear.
I am so pleased with how the photos came out, not only for myself but Sarah really did an excellent job of coordinating the group shots and getting us all to smile or strike a pose.
It was late when we got back to town. Some of the party went home at that point, but a couple of us headed to the local pub and finished off the night with a night cap (double Disaronno for me).
Sunday was a quieter affair (and I was surprised to wake up without a hangover), culminating in cooking tea at Mum’s (lemon chicken, Slimming World style – I’ll put the recipe up some time).
All in all, I thoroughly enjoyed my weekend, and wish I could have a weekend like that every week!