I Will Be An Interruption Today

I am glad there is no vampire hunting in this film.

Checking it out tonight, pumped for 2 hours of a historical drama.

I am getting popcorn.

Thoughts to follow.

I was informed this morning by e-mail that to be added to my list of duties for my mother’s wedding, other than the already laborious: drinking, dancing, eating and signing as a witness, I am now supposed to say “a few words”.

This seems like it is the worst idea in the history of the world, well, maybe second worst, concentration camps were the worst idea as well as being pure evil, but I digress.

There are a few reasons why this suggestion sucks:

• More than half the people in attendance do not speak English as their first language. I don’t know about you and despite the English boyfriend’s claim that Dutch is just english in a silly voice, me saying a few words to a crowd where the majority of guests do not understand me seems like folly. I guess I could always do the speech in pigeon dutch and just say “I” as “Ik”, and then do the toast at the end in Dutch. Flawless.
• My side of the family does not really approve of (I would go as far to say as dislikes) my mum’s fiance. I don’t want to start slandering him on the internets but my sister, my aunt, my mum’s (now ex because of him) best friend all despise him. The rest of us tolerate him, but he is a controlling creep.
• I am a terrible public speaker. It is mainly that I talk too fast and I know I will end up crying during it (not out of pure rage), but weddings are a happy time and my eyes leak like an untamed faucet.
• What am I supposed to say about this union? Uh, thanks for coming into my mum’s life, controlling her every thought, decision and monitoring her every communication then whisking her away to Holland. I probably could get away with that, especially since the fiance’s mastery of the english language is on the poor side.

Better get my cue cards out…

In (checks watch) 10 days, Steven and I will be whisked away by the comforts of Air Transat/Thomas Cook much like Cattle being squished through the murder gates and will arrive in London-town.

I think it may take all the force of my will not to start immediately trying to do an English accent upon our arrival through customs. Hopefully they will still let me into the UK despite pulling a terrible accent which could be compared to Drusilla’s on Buffy.

From there our Voxol chariot awaits and we will travel to Redditch where I will proceed to meet the entirety of Steven’s clan at his gran’s 90th birthday party. Fortunately one of Steven’s aunts is married to a Canadian and has lived in Edmonton for years, so I will not be the only one spouting remarks containing “eh?”

After mincing about the rest of the country for a few days we will embark on the Chunnel, which everyone should continue to refer to it as since I have never seen Steven look more exasperated then when I sing, “chunnel, chunnel, chunnel, chunnel CHUNNEL”.

I am disappoint at the fact that the Chunnel is not actually a glass tube under the ocean where I can point at fish, but we will board the car train and arrive in Calais then drive on to Holland so that we can attend me mother’s wedding!

Plans also surrounding our brief 3 day stay in the land of windmills are to swim, eat a lot of fries with mayo and catch the Champions League final at a pub.

Then it is zoom, zoom, zoom back across the Chunnel (god, don’t you just LOVE hearing the word Chunnel?) where we shall bum around England some more before we head back to the Canadas.

Prepare for lots of photos involving: bridges, twins, windmills, canals, the Chunnel, me making stupid faces in front of historic English landmarks and me drinking tea.

I wish everything came as easily to me as it is to shoot fish in a barrel.

There have been a lot of moments recently where I am beginning to doubt my value. Most of this comes with this bad habit I have of comparing myself to others, which is a terrible thing for your self esteem.

What I have been doing is volunteer work, but I guess this makes me pose the question: Do prospective employers care about volunteer work?