Well, I’m not doing a good job of keeping this ‘ere blog updated, am I? Been particularly busy, which sounds like a moderately pathetic excuse – but it’s my excuse. And it’s the truth.
My very dear friend Flick got married last Saturday at a fabulous ceremony where I was the Father of the Bride. No, really. I was the Father of the Bride – at least for the speeches. Her dad didn’t want to make a speech and neither did her mother, so she asked me, in my capacity as her unofficially adopted mum to do the honours. I got to wear a pretty dress and everything – something you’ll not see from me very often. See here for proof.
The speech went down well, and I’ve included it under the cut at the end for posterity.
The other thing… which I’ve been hinting at for ages, but have never been QUITE sure if I could say ‘out loud’…
I’m being published!
Yes, those lovely people at the Black Library have snapped up one of my Space Marines stories and it will appear in print at an as-yet undetermined point in the future. I know this might seem a little thing, but it’s the achievement of a lifelong dream and I’m insanely excited about it. I have so many ideas and hopefully this will be the first of many.
So… yes. 40K, short story, Silver Skulls. Everything else is Top Secret. Or I don’t know about it. But… YAY!
Here’s what dictionary.com has to say on the subject of ‘tradition’.
“The handing down of statements, beliefs, legends, customs, information, etc., from generation to generation, esp. by word of mouth or by practice:”
In this instance, the tradition to which I’m referring is that of the Father of the Bride speech. I am, as I HOPE you can tell, neither the Father of the Bride, nor, indeed, a father at all. Flick has asked me to step up to the plate to take on this onerous task and right now, I’m not sure whether I’m staggeringly grateful, or terrified beyond belief.
I’m leaning towards the ‘terrified beyond belief’ but… no matter.
So where was I? Oh, yes. Tradition.
Who needs it?
So if you came here today expecting a long-winded speech that features embarrassing moments from Flick’s childhood, I’m afraid you’ll be sorely disappointed. Or… will you? I wouldn’t want to embarrass her horribly by telling you about the photographs that exist somewhere demonstrating her early love of chocolate and communicating that love by appearing with chocolate cake up her nose, in her hair, in her ears… Flick, your mum has asked me if you’d be careful not to do that with the wedding cake.
Or should I tell you about the propensity for acting out scenes from the film ‘Willow’?
No, I won’t tell you any of that. So instead, here is a quick flash-through of why I’m standing here today. And in acknowledgement of how we met, and me and Flick’s shared love of a certain series of computer games, there will be a certain element of geekery to the rest of this little tale. For those of you who know him, I was asked by the blushing bride to make this speech in Dudge-style, but that may not happen. I’m lacking beer, a cigarette and a body full of titanium for starters.
Ten years ago I was first introduced to Flickums. She and I were both writing online in a forum-based RPG. My introduction to her was when her character beat my character almost to death and left him for dead in an alleyway. I should have known then that there was more to her than meets the eye. Not that I’m saying she’s a Transformer or anything….
She and I hit it off brilliantly and before long we had even broken the Internet taboo and met each other, because it turned out she was just an hour down the road. Along with her sister Hils and the illustrious Mr. Fin here, we soon formed a little knot of…
…well, idiots, really. Who would meet up in the happy hamlet of Harrogate and take photographs of random strangers for a still-yet indiscernible reason. Who meet up without fail every year to mercilessly take the rip out of the Eurovision Song Contest?
Then Flickums went off to university. LEVEL UP!
Then she graduated! LEVEL UP!
Then she met Ant! LEVEL UP
Ah, yes. Ant.
“Will you meet my new boyfriend?” she asked me.
“Why?” I replied,
“I want your approval.”
Has he earned it yet? I think the answer to that is a resounding ‘yes’. He has made her one of the happiest people on Earth and I don’t doubt for a second that they mean the world to each other. Ant has made my adopted little sister so happy that I could cry, and probably will if I carry on down this little line of reasoning. Thus, I shall return with all due haste to the silliness.
Flick has come a long way in ten years. She is now married. LEVEL UP! She has a house of her own. LEVEL UP! I finally bullied… uh… convinced her to come to LRP and she has demonstrated an amazing capacity for absorbing green facepaint. LEVEL UP!
I am proud and honoured beyond belief that she asked me to stand up today and say a few words. Before I finish off with a couple of words of my own, I would like to share this little poem with you all. I met Flick through the internet, although this poem could just as easily refer to all those I know through LRP or Facebook or any other of those crazy places.
We sit and we type, and we stare at our screens
We all have to wonder, what this possibly means.
With our mouse we roam, through the rooms in a maze
To find something or someone, as if in a daze.
We chat with each other, we type all our woes
Small groups we do form, and gang up on our foes.
We wait for somebody, to type out our name.
We want recognition, but it’s always the same.
We give kisses and hugs, and sometimes we flirt.
In PM’s we chat deeply, and reveal why we hurt.
We do form friendships – but – how, we don’t know
But some of these friendships, will flourish and grow.
Why is it on screen that we can be so bold
Telling our secrets, that have never been told.
Why is it we share the thoughts in our mind
With those we can’t see, as though we were blind.
The answer is simple, it’s clear as a bell.
We all have our problems, and need someone to tell.
We can’t tell real people, but tell someone we must,
So we turn to the ‘puter, and to those we can trust.
Even though it is crazy, the truth still remains
They are Friends Without Faces, and odd little names.
Thus, to my own special Friends WITH Faces – I give you, Flick and Ant. May you have many long years of happiness together and may you never be caught just outside the loo block during Time In.
Ladies and gentlemen – the bride and groom.