Fantastic Mr Ox's Rubbish Blog: Love & Marriage

Rejoice!

OK, so I got married a couple of weeks ago.

Woo-haa!

It was an amazing day. If you haven't tried it yet, do give it a go as it's a lot of fun and you get a wife at the end of it.

The planning side of it - well, that wasn't much fun. It was at first actually, but by the time the big day was upon us we had both had more than enough of talking about it to everyone, of pouring over planning spreadsheets, of worry about who sits with who, of problems with people either not RSVP-ing, or dropping out, or somehow managing to do both.... It was headache after headache, stress after stress.

There were a few Groomzilla moments, I'll admit. Thankfully, Fantastic Mrs Ox was an ocean of calm amidst my wedding-inspired flip-outs, and we got there in the end.

The day itself started at Diana's Diner on Endell Street, where myself and my Best Man tucked into a hearty cooked breakfast - the last meal of freedom. If you are interested, mine consisted of a fried egg, a sausage, a pool of baked beans, black pudding and fried bread.

Oh you weren't interested? Oh, sorry.

I wasn't particularly nervous at this point, to be honest. I was a bit tired and a bit excited, but not nervous. Having put my lovely tweed wedding suit on though and stood for a moment looking at myself in the mirror - I suddenly had rather clammy hands. Christ. I was actually getting married today.

Best Man & I took a cab to The Allsop Arms near Baker Street, just around the corner from Old Marylebone Town Hall where the ceremony was taking place (In a lovely godless environment). It was just myself and him in the pub at this time - 2 hours before the wedding.

I seemed to down that first pint in the Allsop rather quickly. I was on edge, finding it hard to sit down and instead pacing around the bar whilst the Best Man went over his speech and worked out what other duties he had to complete on the day.

Guests started arriving in the pub in dribs and drabs. All of them looked amazing of course. My parents arrived and divvied up the buttonholes, and soon my Ushers and I had to all go around to the Town Hall to have some pictures taken before the ceremony.

Soon I was being interviewed, to make sure I'm not already married or currently seeking asylum. I was happy to tell the registrar that I was not - and she seemed to trust me as I saw no background checks taking place. A tip there for would-be polygamists and illegal immigrants - just lie about your circumstances, no-one checks.

The guests all filed into the ceremony room - It was a very humbling and warm feeling to know all these people were there just to see us get married. We'd mocked up a 'football programme' as the order of service for the day - I'll be honest I was amazed my sport-ambivalent fiancée ran with the idea after I'd put it forward, but they turned out an absolute treat. Here is the front cover, along with some lovely guests enjoying a good read.

Official Wedding Programme

Enjoying the Programme: Alice & Jon

There was a brief moment of wondering whether Mrs Ox would turn up or not - as captured here.

But turn up she did. Early as well.

I was wondering at what point I'd end up getting a little over-emotional on the day, given I'm the sort that can often be found blubbing for no good reason. I cried when Oxford won at Wembley in May. I cried when Johnny Depp's mum died in Gilbert Grape. So I thought I'd struggle to hold it back on my wedding day.

Sure enough, the sight of my bride-to-be walking down the aisle with her father set me off a treat. So the rest of the photos of the day I had red puffy eyes to go along with my red-puffy rosacea cheeks.

Signing The Register: with Red Eyes & Cheeks.

The ceremony itself was a relatively brief affair, and all of a sudden I was married. We had a couple of lovely readings from friends, but within 20mins we were all filing out for pictures on the stairs outside and the obligatory coating in bloody confetti. I'm not sure where this tradition stems from, but it's quite clingy to tweed. I had just got married though, so wasn't really bothered with the sartorial problems this caused.

We had hired two old routemaster buses to take all the guests from Marylebone to the reception in The City, via a short tour of the sights, sounds and smells of London - which went down a storm with the out-of-towners and the children. To be honest, my new wife and I loved it too, and went downstairs to stand on the open platform and wave at the tourists as we wizzed through the city.

We paused briefly for a quick picture on Waterloo Bridge - where I had proposed last year. It had been an overcast (yet pleasant) day, but as soon as we stepped onto the bridge the sun seemed to shine out from the clouds right upon us just for the duration of our stay there. A sign of approval of the union from the Gods, perhaps?

No - just a meteorological event - nothing more. Don't be ridiculous.

Some consternation from the Best Man during this bridge stop - guests from the other bus were all piling off onto the bridge, unaware this was no more than a 30 second stop.

"Get Back on The Bus!" Beckham & Sparrow nonchalant.

As you can see here, the Best Man was most insistent that the person who was taking this particular picture desist and immediately "Get back on the bus!"

Nice to see David Beckham and Yvonne Sparrow from Goodnight Sweetheart here out for an afternoon stroll, incidentally.

Via Westminster, Buckingham Palace, Trafalgar Square & St Paul's, we were soon at our reception venue, a marvelous pub in the heart of The City, near the Bank of England.

I had expected the day to be a stressful one - worrying about everything running smoothly and making sure everyone was happy. But that is what the Best Man and Ushers are for - and to be fair, they all did a remarkable job, Best Man especially. I'd been told by a few people that the most important thing on the day is to try and sit back and enjoy it - as you'd never (hopefully!) have another day like it again in your life. I was certainly able to do this thanks to everyone else's help, and felt almost serene by the time I had a glass of Champagne in my hand on arrival at the reception venue.

The nerves were not over for me though, despite enjoying the canapés and champagne, as my mind soon turned towards the dreaded Groom's speech I would have to give shortly after the meal.

I'd not really even started writing the speech more than a few days before, so difficult had I found it to get started. I'd tried to put a few too many jokes in there. Some of them inappropriate. Thank goodness I'd read it through a few nights before to Fantastic Mrs Ox, who put me straight on a few things. Probably not for the last time, I'm sure.

So although I was reasonably happy with what I'd finished up with, I hadn't really practised it and was worried about how it would go down. When you are not used to it, public speaking in front of 100 people is quite a daunting task, even if they do all like you (at least they say they do).

I'd already made about three toilet trips in 20mins before the speeches, and as my new Father-in-Law was wrapping up his speech, the nerves were beginning to get on top of me. I think I must have downed two full glasses of wine in 10 minutes.

Soon, I was up. Gulp*.

The Loyal Toast.

What better way to start, I thought, than a toast. So I toasted The Queen. It seemed to break the ice quite nicely, although I did detect some consternation from some quarters. I had no idea we had let republicans into the reception, and was abhorred to find out as such.

Nonetheless I plowed on, and quite enjoyed it, by the end. I even ad-libbed a bit. I was considering a career on stage before I ended up blubbing again when I started to talk about how much I loved my parents. What a soppy git.

That was the difficult bit over though, and the rest of the evening was for revelry in some form or other. What a fantastic evening too. A great old schoolfriend had brought his band down for the evening, and they treated us to a wonderful fusion of funk, soul, jazz and hip-hop. A small plug but check out Tonic here.

Tonic - Funkalicious.

Let me tell you, that until you've heard a Doctor of Physics rapping over some funky bass lines, you have not lived. Perfect wedding band.

There was some amazing dancing to be had even post-band, when Fantastic Mrs Ox's iPod wedding playlist came front of stage and delighted all and sundry. There were a couple of congas, and one of my ushers even did The Caterpillar on the dance floor. His rendition really does have to be seen to be believed.

Brendan does The Caterpillar.

By now, I was pretty relaxed, as is demonstrated in the next set of pictures, in which I attempted to orchestrate the dancing throngs to Prodigy's 'Out of Space' with glowsticks.

I'll take your brain...

..to another dimension.

Pay close attention!

It seemed to go down quite well. Although I'm dreading the video footage (which is apparently out there somewhere) ending up on YouTube.

All too soon, the day was over and my Wife and I said our goodbyes to all our lovely friends and took our leave of them. The following day, it all seemed like something of a dream to be honest. I also felt terribly nauseous all day Sunday. I don't think it had anything to do with the alcohol consumed (as actually I didn't drink a terrible amount), I actually think it was mostly the pent up tension and nervous energy finally being released. A very odd feeling. My feet hurt too - I'd done a lot of dancing.

I understand now though why they say it's the best day of your life. Obviously, it is anyway because it's the day you and someone else commit your lives to each other. We all know that. But what makes it even more special is sharing that day with all the people that you respect and love, knowing they have all turned up because you mean something to them. It's a truly amazing feeling - I do heartily recommend it.

Although you should first make sure you have find the right person to marry and all that. Probably helps if they feel the same way also.

So this marriage malarkey partially explains the lack of updates of the blog in the past few months. Rest assured, the new Fantastic Mrs Ox has agreed to allow me out once in a while, so I may yet still experience some exciting things and let you know about them.

Off on Honeymoon this afternoon to The Outer Hebrides.

Yes, the Outer Hebrides.

Yes, in late October.

Yes, we are driving, actually.

How long? Oh, about 13 hours each way, including the 3hr ferry trip.

Good Luck you say? I have no idea what you mean...