Song To Hall Up High

A funny thing happened on Friday evening which was blown out of proportion by Jo. This is what happened. I arrived home earlier than the others and jumped at the chance to sling my work clothes into the washer, so I stripped down to my pants and threw my site gear in the machine, I went upstairs (Only in boxers, remember) and picked up the rest of my clothes as I intended on jumping in the shower. I went back downstairs and as I was passing the kitchen I remembered I had a piece of chicken in the fridge that was under threat of going off as I was going to be away for the weekend (More of this later). I decided the best place for the chicken would be the freezer, so I located some clingfilm in the kitchen (still in my undercrackers, remember), and proceeded to wrap the chicken in it. It was just at this point that Jo arrived home. As she stepped through the door, I yelled 'This is not how it looks!!' We laughed like twats and I thought the incident forgotten...until... Later that evening we were having a site night out in town, as Oktoberfest was in full swing in Reykjavik. During the evening the incident was brought up by Jo, except by the time she had finished telling everyone, the story had evolved into her coming home to find me wrapped in clingfilm with two chicken breasts strapped to my chest as makeshift lady bumps. Further embellished with chocolate raisins for nipples. According to Jo's version of the story, I was dancing around the apartment singing 'I want to be a girl! I want to be a girl!'

I guess the moral of this story is don't believe everything you hear or read, as some of you did with my last posting...

Anyhoo, back to my news. On Saturday I flew out to Boston for Becky and Mike's wedding. I wasn't sure if I was going to make it, but thanks to the friendship of Becky and her credit card I made my flight from Keflavik. The flight was uneventful and the inflight entertainment of Icelandicair leaves a lot to be desired. Mind you, I did watch about six episodes of the Simpsons that I hadn't seen before. The inflight meal was also bottom drawer, I'm not sure what it was but it tasted like putrefied shark. Mashed up with poison. I arrived at Logan Int. Airport and managed to get the terminal Bob was arriving at and met her with no problems. we took a taxi to the Wynborne hotel, where we were all staying. Becky had assured us it shouldn't have cost much more that 40-50 bucks. The final price was more like $100!! Then we hit the bar as we were waiting for Stan and Dave to arrive so we could get into he room. We ordered starters that the two of us couldn't finish between us and got drunk and laughed like twats, mainly due to sleep depravity. After the other two arrived we had a final cheeky sherbet and hit the hay.

I slept reasonably well, despite HSBC ringing me at 5.00 in the morning, because I'd been trying to get money out of MY account. Cunts. In the morning the four of us hit the Rockingham Mall to get the full US experience. Dave has never been to the States before and he reckoned it looked a bit like Meadowhall, only smaller. I bet that criticism has never been levelled at an American institution before... We also bumped into Freyer and another Becky, both ex-York students who lived with the Beckster in the first year. After a massive jug of Sam Adams booze we got a taxi back to the hotel to put on our make-up for the big day. Needless to say, Dave and I were ready in about five minutes, Stan was still straightening her hair when the lift arrived for us outside the hotel. We all piled in the car and headed up for the church. This is were the fun began. Becky, being Becky would not be able to have a sombre occasion for her wedding. She arrived after the bridal party had taken their places at the front, being led by her father (who looked very dapper indeed), carrying.... a Ball and Chain!! Brilliant. It only got better. The minister giving the ceremony said at one point 'Mike, for a successful marriage, you only need to remember to say three words..' Becky piped up 'Go Red Sox!!'

The ceremony done, all that remained was for the happy couple to walk out of the church, as she passed my seat, Becky shouted 'Nob End!!' LOL? I nearly weed.

The wedding party headed over to a refurbished disused mill building (That one of Becky's Grandmothers had worked in... How's that for a neat tie-in?). As we headed there, we drove through some of the most beautiful woods I have ever seen. New England in Autumn (or Fall...) is the most colourful and amazing place on Earth. The Autumn in the UK just doesn't match up. When we arrived at the reception, there was a little take home box, with everyone's name on it and a table full of sweets for us to help ourselves to! The whole place was decked out in Autumnal colours and it was a tribute to Becky's sister's good taste, who had planned the whole thing. Dinner was four types of curry, which is very unusual in the US (the caterers where surprised to find it was a Mormon/Catholic wedding, and not a Hindu bash, when they were approached to provide the food...) and a free bar provided us with the fuel we needed for a night's heavy dancing. Which we did in spades. Needless to say it was Dave, Bob, Stan and myself who were first up and we hardly left the dancefloor except to drink more. It really kicked off when the DJ played 'U Can't Touch This'. Dave and I had a breakdance-off, just like the old days at Ziggy's. Even a few of the Yanks got involved. We kept the DJ playing for an hour after he should have finished and I think everyone was surprised at how unreserved Becky's British friends were...

Disapointed to find the bar at the hotel closed, we all retreated back to the room, where Becky, Mike and Allan (Mike's brother) joined us for a cheeky sherbet. By this time I was feeling the full effects of jet lag and was too tired to really take part in the conversation.

After breakfast the next morning, the four of us left for the airport, to drop Bob off and go and see some sites in Boston. We met up with Sam, who was looking very Goth with her dyed black hair. Stan only had about half an hour until her flight, so she got a whistle stop tour, whereas Dave and I got a longer tour. Sam was not the best tour guide in the world, but she did show us where Paul Revere had jumped out of a window, whilst wrestling a bear, that had lightening coming out of it's mouth. He won the match by stabbing the bear repeatedly in the brain with a solid gold sword, which he always carried on his person. At least, that's what I think Sam said.

The flight home was as uneventful as the flight out, except the only entertainment was provided by the showing of the film 'Dreamgirls'. I slept through it all, which is exceptional for me as I never sleep whilst travelling....

And finally, it's time for a new section of this weblog: Alti's Quotes of the week!!

On helping me with some tools I was struggling to carry 'Let me take the weight off your soldiers.'

On the fothcoming war with Iceland over the Credit Crisis 'You'll be going home with your tail between your feet.' and 'You'll be crying yourself to bed.'

Reporting on his and Davið's performance at their last seminar when neither had done the required reading 'He would have got a better response out of a couple chips.'