Bum and Mouth to the extreme.
Now I’m not using this as a DIRECT reference for life imitating art; however, I have recently and excitingly been asked to be Maid of Honour for the wedding of my best friend Antonia and her fiancé Noel. (I would just like to point out that in the film it all ends happily with a beautiful wedding and the Bride and Maid of Honour’s friendship still intact. And we all know that film correlates with life. It does. JUST SAYING.)
Antonia and Noel are one of those incredible couples who just fit. Like socks and shoes, hands and gloves, Bert and Ernie. They met playing Romeo and Juliet opposite each other and have now started their own theatre company: Box Tale Soup.
Box Tale Soup, does what it says on the tin:
Box: Everything they use to perform with is placed in one box, well a suitcase really. An old, well-loved suitcase filled with puppets! Home-made puppets, hand crafted by Antonia and Noel with recycled materials and bits and bobs from around the house. The puppets are INCREDIBLE and each has their own distinctive personality and voice. I definitely have a favourite…
Tale: They are currently bringing to life Northanger Abbey with a fresh and funny approach; think Austen mixed with Avenue Q! Noel comes from a street performing background and Tones from classical acting, so the blend of the two makes for a whirlwind of story-telling!
Soup: It is heart-warming. I’m not going to get gooey about it, but the truth and integrity of them both as performers and the fact that they have created this magical world from scratch makes me more proud than you can imagine.
Okay so I did get gooey, but that is the last of it! More fart jokes to balance out the slush please Darrall.
Their next performance is at Hatfield House on the 6th December. I URGE you to book and promise you a night of belly laughs, tears (good ones) and joy.
Shameless plug done. Now onto how I can embarrass her at the hen night… I can’t promise that we won’t end up shitting on the road but I will do my very best to prevent it. Maybe.
Being asked to be Maid of Honour is a definite sign of growing up. Now I have, for the past 26 years, resisted growing up with a vengeance; mainly by the listening of Sclub7 and the wearing of baggy jeans, hoodies and a general smirk of ‘This is not happening to me! You guys, yes. Me, no. I tell too many jokes about genitals to ever be considered for Growing Up. SO THERE.’
But apparently I am. So I have decided to embrace it. I will be the BEST Maid of Honour there has ever been. I will shower all the maids with honour and honour all the maids with showers.
(After they’ve finished shitting in the road.)
This is a photograph of Antonia, me and the other two bridesmaids, Lou and Cee, on holiday in Portugal. This is the BEFORE photo.
They don’t know what is coming to them…
As you can see they are all brown and glowing, whereas my face is beetroot red and my legs are ghostly white. My legs refuse to tan like anorexics refuse to eat.
Now Antonia won’t mind me saying this, but she can be a bit bossy from time to time, in a loving, efficient, organised way and always with the gentlest of touches, but yes, bossy. (PLEASE STILL BE MY FRIEND)
So the fact that she has given me, her slightly haphazard and inappropriate sidekick, the job of Maid of Honour, which entails QUITE A BIT of responsibility, makes it mean that much more.
SHE HAS GIVEN ME THE REIGNS!
(Dazza throws her arms in the air and does the Maid of Honour dance. Oh yes, I have made up a dance. It is a cross between the Chandler dance and the montage of Simba coming of age to the tune of Hakuna Matata. You know the one.)
Funnily enough, my other bestie, Suze (you can never have too many besties), has also recently been made Maid of Honour for our wonderful friends Nikki and Joe, thus I am already planning Maid of Honour meetings. There will be a handshake, of course the dance and maybe a flip board where we can compare notes and plan plans (or play Pictionary, however the mood takes us).
So it is official. EVERYONE IN THE WORLD IS GETTING MARRIED. AND WE ARE GROWING UP.
(Camera zooms in on Dazza in a heap on the floor, quivering like a child and clutching her Care Bear.)
And I am totally ready for it. Definitely. More than ready. If anybody’s ready, it’s me. Loads.
Now onto write my speech…
ps. A Disclosure for Antonia: Laura Darrall hereby promises not to encourage or cause vomiting and or diarrhoea on any forthcoming Bridal Activities. She also promises to be the best Maid of Honour known to man. And to teach you the dance. The end.