When good things happen to good people

So last night Chef and I had the joy and honour of attending the wedding of our friends E and M. While the rain was relentless and heavy for pretty much the entire evening it was outshone by the love these two have for each other and the love for them both that everyone in the room clearly displayed.

E and I worked together a few years back and I think I can safely say we clicked from the very first time we met – when she and her boss and some weird creepy ‘independent’ guy from another government agency interviewed me. Any ridiculous concerns I had about having a manager younger than me was basically allayed within the first hour of working together. She is the epitomy of what a manager should be – always willing to get her hands dirty, supportive, encouraging, never micro-managing, creating a team not a hierarchy, resolving issues or problems with discretion and care, never taking things too seriously (she and I could roll our eyes so hard about certain staff members and meetings they’d almost fall out of our heads – something we were both chastised for. teeheehee) and always, always ready to discuss the latest debacle of an outfit worn by some start somewhere around the world and – for me – the best thing about the job (until she and M very rudely up and went travelling through South America for 6 months before working in the UK for a couple fo years).

From E I adopted the phrases about eating something until your head could fall off, my sweets (as a term of affection), getting all hot (but not in a good way), and possibly giving me the shits and making my neck itch (I can’t remember on that front but I do know I started using them when we worked together).

There was always humour in our team work environment and quite frankly if there isn’t then you just can not be expected to go to work every day without going postal.

Anyway, she’ll be all uncomfortable and hot about such a public display of my love and affection for her. M is her perfect partner – quite partial to delusions of grandeur and fame as I am, very happy to have the floor and the microphone and for it all to be about him. At the moment – and even last night – he was ‘mentoring’ me with questions about how far I had got in the book on search engine optimisation he has lent me (um, it’s on the dining room table?) and what I’d done to secure the book deal and did I have a literary agent yet (blushing and um, kicking the floor, no. Not yet. Yes I am going to do something about it. YES, I PROMISE. OMG this is your wedding, go kiss that gorgeous bride).

Their vows were exquisite – expressions of love and devotion with none of the Hallmark schmaltz.

The guests testament to their very nature – down to earth, classy, funny, exuberant, genuine and clearly appreciative of a good feed (the food was sublime – a prawn ravioli with just a hint of chilli, a pork belly with five spice, a prawn-crusted salmon cooked to perfection and a beef fillet with beans and potato dauphinois, while dessert was the best idea – mini ice cream cones, mini lemon meringue tarts and mini creme brulees that were offered on the dance floor and throughout the room so people were not ‘stuck’ on their tables) and not afraid to shake it up on the dance floor.

The speeches were probably the best I’ve ever witnessed – funny, tender and that word again, genuine.

I got to meet E’s mum and she said, “You’re Kimmy! With the four boys! From Narrabeen! OH how lovely to meet you”. Good people. I found out that she and E’s Dad are essentially grandparents to the children of two of E and M’s friend, so much so that they collect one of them from school every Friday and have him sleep-over every other week. I mean, talk about above and beyond. Good people.

As it was I didn’t even disgrace myself in regards to alcohol intake and could in fact drive us home (as opposed to Chef who really did enjoy himself). Not only did this save us what would have been a ridiculously large taxi fare it meant that I was quite well equipped to deal with the cold hard reality that our arrival home at 12.30ish signalled to Grover the perfect time to wake up and have a midnight snack and chat. It was only by the time we were watching Get Smart reruns at 2.30am that I was starting to feel a bit shabby.

So, after popping a few panadols, a mega vitamin b pill and finally convincing Grover to go back to bed I crawled into mine at 3am. I’ve been up since 7am and am feeling a bit bleary-eyed but still on a high from a wonderful evening. I can only imagine how E and M are feeling on their first day as husband and wife.

Just delicious.