Family wedding

Flew in last Friday to Romania. Was looking forward to a family wedding in Sinaia resort and a couple of days with the family surrounded by beautiful mountains, calmness and endless green. I really needed that after the London madness.

However, everything was so quick. Before I knew it I was already wrapped up in my dress with my retro home made hair-do (which really surprised the feminine members of my family - my aunt came all organized straight from the hairdresser after paying a fortune for a bit of volume and a refreshed colour) ready for what I expected to be a cool wedding/party.

The party was hosted by the Palace Hotel in Sinaia, a really beautiful spot for such an occasion with huge chandeliers and a cosy terrace overlooking the central park (which was amazingly clean and maintained). I thought to myself that I'd like to have my own wedding (if that ever happens) at such a venue.

Despite thinking that I will socialize a lot and be all over the place, the attendees proved to be quite reserved and I ended up siting most of the night at the table with my family and another middle aged couple which used to live opposite my aunt and who kept on talking about their successful young daughters. I found out that the younger one (20 years old) was going to study in the UK and that seemed to be a great deal. I told myself that I also studied in the UK and it wasn't such a big deal, but I clearly kept that to myself. I am after all a very diplomatic individual.

I kept myself busy with the bottle of wine and only realised that I was the only one busy driking when my cousin jokingly showed me that I had finished the bottle of white. I kept on smoking cigarettes feeling so Carrie Bradshaw among families and young couples and reminding myself that I am an almost 30 years old single woman with nothing but an incredible sense in fashion. I was without a doubt the most sensibly dressed person at the wedding.

I even shed a few tears when I heard a song that my father used to like and thinking that if I ever get married I will not have a father to give me away. Those kind of thoughts soon dissapeared when the "musicians" started some kind of contest about which one was going to destroy my ears and congratulated my mother for missing the event.

Got home exhausted and slept the next day as if I was dead. I only woke up to eat and went back to sleep.

Back in London I shed a few more tears. Must have been the tiredness, the nostalgia, the lack of something in my life, the fact that I already missed my mother and the others or all of the above, but I felt like crying all the way until I got home...

I realized once again that I am different breed now. The breed that runs alone and does it pretty well, though sometimes thinks otherwise.