A hairy bridesmaid (Rousse)

I was honoured to have been asked to serve as one of JA’s bridesmaids, even though the only part that I had played in her life was to introduce her to some external work contacts and help her secure her first job following graduation.

On the big day I arrived at the hotel already dressed in my slim-fit mauve bridesmaid’s gown. I said hello to JA, who was taking her turn in a line-up of brides to practise their ceremony moves.

Since the wedding itself was not due to take place until much later in the evening, I took my parents to the hotel lounge where we could read the papers while waiting for the main event. It was odd to have my father back with us, and rather embarrassing since I had placed his death notice in the papers and written his obituary for publication. However, we were pleased that he had survived three weeks in a mortuary and a cremation, especially since his return cheered my mother immensely.

Later I sought JA to check on preparations for the ceremony. I found her in the communal shower, adding a blue rinse to her long grey hair. Rather than greet me with her famed smile, she glared at me angrily.

Where had I been? The wedding took place at 7:27pm and it was now 9:30pm! I was devastated to have missed the wedding, but had no excuse for my absence other than I had lost track of time.

JA’s mother and other relations were so angry that they all rounded on me, and one of her uncles spat in my face.

This was a disaster – and to think that when I first arrived at the venue that morning my main concern was that the other guests might notice my hairy armpits.

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Secrets by hypnosis in a skimpy black swimsuit (Rousse)

The power of the hypnotist was such that I couldn’t remember my taxi journey to the theatre.

I could, however, recall standing in a revealing skimpy black swimsuit spilling every secret of the vast fortune that I had accumulated over the years.

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Eminem and me (Belle)

I could either put the dishes away and go to bed or take a walk in the night-time industrial wastelands of 1980s London. I chose the walk and bumped into Eminem.

We knew each other vaguely and we linked arms and continued our walk in a charged silence. He led me into the student hall of residence that was his home. By this time we were holding hands. The bar area was made up of four railway carriages, all packed with students. As I stopped to say hello to someone I knew, a small dog licked my leg.

Eminem and I became a sort of informal item and he would wait at home for me while I commuted to New York every day to run a disreputable research project.

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Belle’s indecent play (Rousse)

Belle was more popular with the lads than me. I put this down to her more daring playground performance.

She zipped down the slide at an indecent speed, laughing her head off, with her legs held high in the air. I couldn’t possibly compete with this.

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Hotel holds guest’s underwear hostage (Rousse)

AH, CS, NY and SY pulled up outside the house bang on time at 3pm.

‘Look what we’ve brought!’ showed off AH, as he dragged two life-size cardboard cut-outs of me and TPR into the house. Each with a mop of blue woollen hair, they weren’t very realistic.

Meanwhile I had a mission to accomplish. I’d left all my underwear in a French hotel. I set off to collect it by bus on my own, but was soon joined by JG and BV. The former declared his undying love to me, and the latter tagged along to help with any interpretation needs.

Having battled through the snow and a bar packed with holiday-makers and their luggage, I was within reach of my hotel room when the proprietor refused admission along the corridor. I pleaded to be let through – not least so that I could cover my bare corsage – but my requests were ignored.

It was not until I threatened to report the theft of my left belongings that I was finally reunited with them. Then I returned to the village and caught the bus home again, with the besotted JG still in my wake.

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Second wedding wildlife (Rousse)

The bride wore a bizarre blue patterned lawn cotton gown, as did her chief bridesmaid daughter. Two of her three sons, dressed in black suits, vied for the role of best man.

This all seemed pretty pointless to me since CW and MW had been married since 2002. Why bother with this strangely-costumed second wedding?

Even more puzzling was that TPR was carrying what he believed to be a dead fox to the ceremony. It was, in fact, a very large ginger stoat – and very much alive.

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Red fleece pyjama shame (Rousse)

When I saw BB come round the corner into reception with a bunch of computer industry experts I knew that I had to sharpen up my act.

Lounging around campus reception in my red fleece pyjamas until mid-morning was an embarrassment to the whole University.

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Sponge-cake frog-legs (Belle)

I was panicking. The judges were on their way and I was still smearing green-coloured sponge cake onto my legs and I hadn’t even got my webbed feet ready. I was a fool to enter this competition.

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Alternative wedding activities (Rousse)

As the guests arrived for my sister J’s wedding, I chatted to my young cousins in the kitchen. This was more interesting than making small talk with middle-aged men in dark suits. I also wanted to avoid getting into arguments with my family over the upkeep of the house. I’d already witnessed my niece ruin an antique mahogany table when she used it as a cheeseboard.

A few minutes before the ceremony I left the kitchen and went upstairs to help my sister climb into her jewel-encrusted bridal gown. It looked rather large to me – as did my long lilac linen shift dress (size 14).

Rather than attend the ceremony, TPR and I took a long walk across town to photograph the birds that guarded their eggs on the pavement next to the cricket pitch. Provided that you were quiet kept a reasonable distance of about a metre from each egg and bird, it was relatively easy to capture some amazing shots of a wide variety of species.

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Global wheat production, whisky league tables, and Hawaiian trade statistics (Rousse)

This time I really had gone too far. Why would the students need to know about global wheat production and whisky league tables in an introductory about Knowledge Management? Sure, the images that I used were beautiful, but surely there was something more relevant to discuss than the detail of Hawaiian trade statistics for spirits?

PC patiently sat through the beautifully composed slides. He suggested (kindly) that they were meaningless without narrative, and possibly more suited to a keynote presentation rather than an undergraduate lecture.

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