Ben and I recently wondered, what town can we visit where there's absolutely nothing to see or do? We simultaneously answered, "Gladstone, Qld!", high-fived eachother and, with a wink and a cheesy grin, hauled our butts up there for a week. The occasion was actually Ben's cousin Laura's wedding, which was a lovely event held nearby, and I honestly enjoyed myself (and did a worryingly good job of) lazing about for the remainder of the trip.
Having grown up with a brother and two male cousins she considers brothers, Laura is undoubtedly a tomboy. She can hold her own, has a renowned preference for black and the only girlish dresses I've seen her begrudgingly wear are those in childhood pictures. It was a very special sight then last Saturday, when her proud father presented her in a pure white dress with a long train and a sweetheart neckline. The dress beautifully contrasted her jet black hair which was pinned back (also a rare sight) to reveal diamond earrings and necklace.The bridesmaids were dressed in black, but this fell under the clever guise of a 'black & white' theme (and they did look fantastic).
Clouds had loomed overhead as we awaited Laura's arrival at the outdoor ceremony, typically releasing showers the moment she appeared. Laura's lack of vanity ironically gave her the feminine edge over the other ladies who threw grace to the wind to hold purses over heads and sulk over ruined do's (some of us even running [like a girl] for cover.. Even though my goddamn hair was ruined the second the rain touched it!). As with all backwards superstitions, it is apparently good luck to have rain on the bride and sun on the coffin. Someone retorted, "If you've got sun on your coffin, I'd say it's a little too late. How many people have sat up and said, 'Well, that was good luck, then!'?" Good point.
When we met Laura as a married woman, we were relieved to find that the tomboy was still somewhere under all that prissy fabric. She lifted her dress to show off a very impressive pair of black, studded heels. I would never have imagined shoes like those under a wedding dress, but they suited her to a tee. When I saw her afterwards at the reception with a cigar hanging out of her mouth, the picture was complete. Coolest.. bride.. ever. (Cos smoking's cool. Duh.)
Another cool dude I met at the wedding was Laura's grandfather. Pointing to Ben, he proudly admitted, "I used to feed him beer with a teaspoon!" So, he's the one who started it all! Between that and Ben's grandmother letting him drink the froth of her beers as a child, he never stood a chance. At the reception, Ben had naturally downed a few beers by the time dessert was served. He freely declared his tiramisu to be "a bunch of bullshit!" (No offence, tiramisu, he just doesn't like dessert.) We were seated with Ben's uncle Dean, who is always inspired by Ben's energy and gains a little more courage in his presence. So, when Dean's wife Margo asked if he himself would like to try the tiramisu, she was a little surprised when he boldly replied, "No way, Margo. It's a bunch of bullshit!"
I think the person who had more booze than us all though, was a poor young woman who was left to stumble about, knocking things off the balcony and wearing her black dress up around her navel. I'm the sort of person who enjoys pulling faces at kids when their parents aren't looking (try it! They love it), so when the boozy girl approached me with the most dirty look on her face, I pulled a silly face back out of habit. She reacted with surprise and confusion and I realised she mustn't have registered her own her rude expression earlier. She hadn't been playing the Funny Face Game at all! Oh, well, I doubt she'll remember.
With the wedding all wrapped up at Drunk O'clock, we spent a few more days in Gladdy with the in-laws. Aside from John pinching my book and Kerry taking my tampons from the shopping, announcing "I'll just put these mints in the cupboard" (which, by her embarrassed expression afterwards, I know was only due to her poor eye sight) we had a lovely time together. Perhaps to make up for the tampon incident, as well as suiting John's book-stealing agenda, Kerry heard I like jigsaw puzzles and dug one out of the linen closet. I saw the sissy fairy picture on the box and sighed, "That'll have to do." About an hour or so into it, however, I was fully engrossed, slugging back a beer as I fiercely constructed little fairy faces. And boy, were those bitches tricky! I have worked on many a jigsaw, and I can tell you that nothing's been harder than that damn main fairy's big pink dress. Argh, all the pieces looked the same! So, those sweet little fairies I'd initially scoffed at had the last laugh. I did finish the puzzle, though, (at 1am on the last night.. I would not be defeated!) so I won. *Sticks out tongue.*
The slow pace of life in Gladstone also allowed me to make some amazing discoveries. Like, when you accidentally put Chinese 5 spice on your porridge instead of cinnamon, it doesn't taste too bad; ducks still swim around at night (which we noticed on an evening walk and is actually quite eerie. As Ben said, "There's something unsavoury about a boy flying his kite at night)?; and when you wear a swimming cap, goggles and earplugs in the pool, the facial claustrophobia results in your sudden fear that someone plopped (heheh.. 'plopped') a crocodile into the pool - that honestly went through my mind and I had to keep checking there wasn't one behind me. Don't tell anybody I'm crazy!!
I'm not one for horrifically hot weather, but at this time of year in Queensland, it was just hot enough in the middle of the day to produce a light sweat (the stink of which you'd have to deal with for the remainder of the day if you were out, which was irritating at worst). What I did suffer with were the bright mornings which rendered sleep-ins impossible. I resolved to buy an eye-mask which I sought at almost every store in the main shopping complex. Oddly, though, the only shop that sold them in this land of the sun was Bras-n-things, which stocked a sickly, pink satin mask covered in frills, with Do Not Disturb written across it in diamantes. I practically laughed at the shop girl when she showed me, giving her a stuck up, "thanks, but no thanks!" before shaking my arse from side to side as I left with my nose in the air. I was pretty desperate for sleep, though, and when every other shop turned me down, I returned to Bras-n-things with my tail between my legs. Upon it's second inspection, the mask looked even more ridiculous, and I just couldn't bring myself to buy it. My last option was a chemist across the road, which luckily sold plain masks (and at a quarter of the price), thank Christ!
Just as I had pre-judged the fairy puzzle, I had expected to be bored in Gladstone, but thoroughly enjoyed myself. The moment we returned to fast-paced Melbs, so did all my worries, planning and chores. I will endeavour (unsuccessfully, I'm sure, but it's a nice thought) to switch-off and go with the flow a little more in my regular life, which was my rare accomplishment in the sleepy town of Gladstone. (Having all of my cooking and washing taken care of may have had something to do with it. Thanks, Kerry! Oh, and another special thanks to our friend Jo; she minded our cats while we were away, and they apparently brought lizards inside, vomited on the carpet and slept on her head. I swear they're normally good. Well, sometimes.)
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