Change

On Saturday, I had the first of a year of many wedding related events - my hen-do. I'm approaching my our wedding with the same attitude as I approach birthdays - make it last as long as is possible. If you consider that the hen-do is supposed to happen a night or two before the wedding and my our wedding is in erm August, then you'll see that in this endeavour I am going to succeed immeasurably.

My task is somewhat aided by having to have 2 weddings (visa wedding and proper-white-dress-aisle wedding...although technically I have a whiteish dress for the visa wedding too but shhhh) and two lots of friends and family to celebrate with, along-with two sets of traditions. My task is greatly aided by the curious American tradition of doing everything twice: save-the-dates and invitations, bachelorette parties (aka hen-do) and bridal-showers, rehearsal dinners and wedding receptions. In fact, you could argue that in having two weddings, Jeremy and I are just seeing the American way of doing things through to its logical conclusion... sort of?

Anyway, so Saturday was my hen-do, kindly and brilliantly organised by Sian after I was told I was absolutely not allowed to organise it myself or to micro-manage anybody else organising it. So I was more or less in the dark on the whole plan and had to blindly follow everyone around London to various delicious destinations for brunch, ice-skating, cocktails, cupcakes, dinner and drinks. Much laughter, fun, sugar and wine had by all.

Part of the day consisted of embarrassing me by making me guess Jeremy's answers to a questionnaire about him / me / us that Sian had devised. The penalty for mis-answering was to eat a penis-shaped sweet. Needless to say I tried my best to answer correctly. All told I did pretty well (although numerous penis-jellies were consumed...I refused to eat the red ones, they disturbed me). We both answered that my favourite bedroom activity is sleeping, that we're most looking forward to no longer having to talk on the phone and that my most annoying habit is worrying. We also both decided that in a shag/marry/kill scenario (with Jeremy in the scenario, not me, although I'd draw the same conclusion) Paris Hilton would have to die.

And then the day was over. Poof, gone, nevertobeseenagain. And I realised (I'm a bit slow on the uptake sometimes) that this year, despite my bid to make things last as long as possible, is going to be full of firsts and lasts. Full of that weird post-birthday shade of disappointment that all the anticipated fun has come to fruition and is over (we're saving our honeymoon till 2011 which will help counteract that...plus there's always Christmas). Full of adventure and difference.

Ordinarily at the beginning of a new year I look at it with hope and ambition, crossing my fingers for it to be a good one. This year I know without doubt that the me at the end will not be the same as the me right now. There is going to be Change - as promised by Obama and threatened by David Cameron - and it's all starting with penis-jellies. Bring it on (the change rather than the penis-jellies - they really didn't taste that good).