Rule No.61: Always check your outfit in the mirror before you leave the house

I'm currently sitting here with my new mates trying to forget the fact I have a hangover. 

The problem with sleeping on the sofa is at 8am every morning I get woken up by a tongue licking my face. 

Just to make this clear, it's a dog tongue. 

I'm not sure why I felt the need to make that clear.  

Yesterday was an amazing day. It was Tom and Susanna's wedding, which was in a beautiful barn in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. Everything about the day was perfect. The ceremony was beautiful and everyone cried (including me), the speeches were brilliantly funny, the music was amazing (Mumford and Sons, The Lumineers, Temptations) and the cake was UNBELIEVABLE. 

The problem with weddings is that they make you realise how single you actually are. For example, the table plan: 

Also, when the slow songs are played and the DJ announces "please can all of the couples come to the dance floor for this song" you get left at the edge of the dance floor drinking wine and smiling (deep down wanting to push all of the couples over).  However, I was soon back on the dance floor when Twist and Shout came on. 

One of the funniest moments of the day must have been during the exchanging of the vows when my two year old nephew, Luke suddenly farted. It was so loud and he just sat there like nothing had happened. Oh the shame. 

But seriously, what a beautiful setting. 

And the reception: 

After eating carbs for breakfast and lunch I made sure I wore my trusted pants to attempt to make my belly look flat. 

It only occurred to me after the wedding ceremony that the slit at the back of my dress actually revealed these sexy pants. Not the best thing for people to notice. This added to the fact that I forgot to zip my dress to the very top so I was walking round with my zip undone for most of the day.

What a mess. 

Anyway, I'm off to walk round the lakes to try to make my head feel better. 

Congratulations Mr and Mrs Haxell on such a wonderful day. 

Good bye x

P.S. I'm going to a hockey game tomorrow. I'm going to buy a corndog and a foam finger. 

Rule No.9: Making friends with the DJ can be useful

Today I feel like death. I'm actually a little concerned I could have bed sores tomorrow morning. I haven't moved all day (except to go to the toilet, get water, get food and open the door to the pizza delivery guy). Oh yea, the diet isn't going well still. I've watched 10 episodes of New Girl and have now finished the whole of season 2. I cried three times - Jess and Nick's relationship is just far too much for me to handle. I also think I'm getting tonsillitis, which is pretty horrendous. I'm presuming having craters in your tonsils is not a good sign anyway?

So yesterday I went to a posh pub with my housemates for lunch, which was really lovely. However, slightly awkward when I asked the waiter for my Pork Belly to come with chips instead of potato pancakes (I needed as much grease as possible after Lovebox). The waiter pulled a disappointed face, but said he will ask the chef. Five minutes later the chef came over to my table to convince me that I shouldn't exchange for chips as it would ruin the meal and that the potato pancakes were 'exquisite'. Obviously I stuck to chips, but felt so ashamed. I don't think I have ever felt so embarrassed to order chips before, I felt like I had asked Gordon Ramsey to make we a McChicken Sandwich meal.

After the pub we went to Battersea Park and hired a pedalo. I made sure that I was in charge of steering as I really miss driving my car (I haven't driven since moving to London) and it's the closest I could come to driving again. That, and pushing a shopping trolley round Sainsbury's. At first I was rather impressed with my skills, until I got cocky, which led to us getting stuck in a bush and narrowly missing a duck nest. People around us seemed to find this amusing, my housemates on the other hand did not see the funny side as they were getting hit by tree branches and leaves were getting stuck in their hair. I ended up getting us out of the bush however, and the rest of the pedalo ride was pleasant.

Last night we went out in Clapham North for my housemates birthday, which was really fun. We drank cocktails, we danced and I made friends with the DJ who was pretty hot. This meant we got all of our song requests played, and we sang at the top of our voices for the majority of the night. We also attempted to dance like Beyonce, but failed miserably.

Aimee and I (after a few too many cocktails) decided to show off our best pulling tactic. Unfortunately it wasn't effective. See below:

However, I do have a date next week...I met him at Lovebox on Friday and he's a really nice guy. Well he bought me and my friends bottles of water when we were thirsty and that always gives a guy brownie points anyway. He also wasn't put off when I sent him a pic of myself downing a pint of Guinness last night, which I weirdly drank faster than my two Irish guy friends...I think I need lessons on being more ladylike.

Anyway, I'm off to gargle some salt water.

Night x