#she sings and talks to people until 2am and sometimes starts back up before eight in the morning

[beachboysnatural]

My roommate is clearly going through something but also she is not being very considerate about it!!

[spine-buster]

Alone, Together | Chapter 13 | Morgan Rielly

TW: alcoholic parent; homelessness

Briony was alone.

Morgan was somewhere between Carolina and Tampa Bay.  She was 17 floors above Toronto in a condo building.  The lights from the skyscrapers illuminated the tranquil night sky around her as she stood looking out her window.  At 2am, there wasn’t much noise from the city below, despite being near one of the busiest intersections.  She could feel the still, cold air of the night near her feet, the slightest draft coming in from outside.  Everything was peaceful.  Everything was serene.

Despite the stillness of the night, she couldn’t sleep.  She wasn’t able to put her mind at ease since that morning, when she moved everything into the apartment.  All she really had to do was hang up clothes, since everything else was furnished and provided, but when she was done there was still a sense of…restlessness within her.  Now that she was alone, and not with Aryne, Lucy, Ashley, Angie, or any combination of the four, her mind began to reminisce on the past ten days.  Even then, the past eighteen years.

Her first vivid memory was singing “Itsby Bitsy Spider” to her mother on the steps of a house she never lived in again.  Sharon was sitting on a lawn chair, jean shorts and a tank top on, tanning in the sun.  Briony had asked her if she wanted to hear her sing, and Sharon didn’t respond, so Briony just went for it.  On the floor near where her mother’s hand dangled, a case of beer sat waiting to be consumed.  When Briony finished the song, her mother looked at her through her sunglasses, said nothing, and took a long sip of beer.

Briony could remember every house they lived in.  In a notebook she used to have, she had written down every address that became their temporary home.  She remembered the rooms her mom’s “friends” would provide them in between them waiting for public housing units. She remembered each apartment they lived in thanks to Toronto Community Housing.  She remembered the rooms at the homeless shelters they would stay in; the bigger rooms provided for them because they were a “family” versus the smaller rooms provided for them when it was winter and busy and so crowded that they only reason they got a room in the first place was because they were considered a “family”.  She remembered sleeping on the floor and using her school backpack as a pillow while her mother took the only bed.  Briony lost count at somewhere around twenty-five different living situations.  She never counted recurring visits to the same homeless shelter as different.  

Briony could remember the smell of alcohol whenever she would come from school.  It was either alcohol or cigarette smoke – sometimes a mix of both – and for a while she wondered if she’d ever be able to get the stench out of her clothes.  She could remember the first time she recognized a branded bottle of vodka on the coffee table.  The clear liquid was always more important to Sharon than anything Briony ever had going on.  It was more important than curriculum nights, than parent-teacher interviews, than toasting some bread for breakfast, than preparing a packed lunch for school, than making dinner, than tucking her into bed at night.  It was the reason why her teachers gave her granola bars during recess, the reason some teacher she didn’t even know packed an extra sandwich for her to eat so she’d have a lunch.  It was the reason she’d have to walk home everyday, regardless of how far the school was from the house or if it was raining or snowing.  It was the reason why teacher after teacher would speak to her privately and ask her “Is everything alright at home?” and she’d have to look them dead in the eye and lie and say “Yes”, because the despite the severe alcoholism, the thought of her as a small child being separated from her mother was scarier than just dealing with it.  Sharon always told her life would be worse for Briony if they were separated and Briony chose to believe her.  She didn’t want to become a ‘system’ kid, lost and shuffled around until a family deemed her worthy of staying with them.  Alcohol shaped Briony’s entire worldview as a child of how adults functioned.  Alcohol gave Sharon an excuse not to be a mother, to love something other than her child.  Alcohol prevented them from every having a normal, functioning, mother-daughter relationship.  Alcohol killed any hope Briony had in Sharon of ever overcoming her addiction issues.  

Briony could remember the day of the emancipation.  She had provided the court with enough evidence against her mother, and the court ruled in her favour.  In Ontario, she technically didn’t even need the court’s permission – she could have just left – but Briony wanted to make sure her mother, however lazy, couldn’t come back legally and claim something.  It was a long and strenuous process, but she got what she wanted.  Truthfully, she probably got what Sharon wanted too – to not have to care about another person anymore.  Briony could take care of herself.  She always did, anyway.  When she left the courtroom, Sharon looked at her.  “I wasn’t a bad mom, you know,” she said to Briony, and that’s when Briony knew there was no saving her.  Those were the last words Sharon said to her.  Briony said nothing back.

Because of all this, moving was her normal.  It was a miracle that she was even able to keep the same apartment in the Annex for a few years.  Moving was her constant.  So when she moved into this condo now, sleeker than anything she’d ever been in, bigger that anything she’d ever lived in, it felt somewhat normal - somewhat because she wasn’t moving into a rooming house, or a shelter, or a subsidized apartment.  It was a fresh start.  She wasn’t going back to her past.  

But that’s why her past was brought to her mind.  

Briony knew her childhood wasn’t normal.  She didn’t need a psychiatrist to tell her that.  But after leaving her mother, she tried to make her life as normal as possible.  She tried to put her past behind her.  But with the break-in, her past had crept up on her again.  She knew break-ins happened to a lot of people, but she couldn’t help but wonder why it kept happening to her; what bad luck she had stuck on her to have this happen again.  The only exception was this time she had a support network.  She had Angie and Mason, her best friends.  She had Morgan, soft, strong, beautiful Morgan.  She had Aryne and John; Jake and Lucy; Naz and Ashley – people willing to help her get through this so she didn’t have to be alone.  

Despite the mix of emotions, and despite the feeling plaguing the pit of her stomach, she couldn’t call anybody.  A part of her didn’t want to call anybody.  She had always handled these feelings on her own, and even though she had a support network now, she knew sometimes it was going to stay that way.  She could get through this herself, as she always did; the mix of emotions, the feeling of restlessness, the recollection of her childhood.  Nobody could truly understand what she had been through, and what it took for her to overcome the negativity surrounding her constantly.  She was strong, and kind, and diligent, and a hard worker, and she knew she could handle this because she had done so before.  

So instead of calling Angie or Morgan, she lay down on the floor.  The place she knew best.  The place she often slept growing up.  And she stared up at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to overtake her mind, to calm her complicated thoughts.

***

“It’s a nice place,” Morgan commented as Briony finished giving him the tour of the apartment.  Finally, finally, after so fucking long, he was home in Toronto.  He had messaged almost constantly, and they have FaceTimed every day, but nothing beat having him back in the city where she could physically touch him, see him, hug him, kiss him.  “Do you like it?” he asked.

Briony nodded her head.  “It’s really nice.  I’m still a bit…I don’t know, getting used to it.  There’s a lot of room.  But it’s really nice.  You should see the view at night.  It’s really pretty with everything lit up.”

“Do you feel safe here?” he asked again.

She nodded her head quickly.  “I do.”

“Don’t lie to me.  If you don’t feel safe we’ll find somewhere else.”

“I’m not lying,” she assured him as he grabbed her hand and pulled her gently towards his body so he could wrap an arm around her.  “I feel really safe here.  I’m high up, and there’s the doorman and the security system and stuff, and it’s all very high-tech.”

“Have you used any of the stuff in the kitchen?” he asked, knowing her great affinity for cooking.  They were in it now, leaning up against the counter.  “Ashley told me it’s fully stocked with everything.”

“I used the Kitchen Aid mixer to make my own pizza dough one night instead of ordering one,” she admitted, smiling.  “I’m…gonna have a lot of fun using all this stuff.”

“Good,” he smiled, bending down to kiss her and to squeeze her ass.  She yelped and giggled as he did so, and he responded by picking her up and placed her on the kitchen island, wrapping her legs around his torso.  He was looking up at her at that point, and gave her a quick kiss.  “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to be here for you during the move.”

“It’s nothing that I’m not used to,” she said, his heart breaking a little as she did.  “You have a job and responsibilities too you know.  Just like me.  We’re both adults.  I understand why you couldn’t be here.”

“I know.  But I feel like a bad boyfriend.”  At one point he seriously contemplated approaching Babs and Kyle and asking permission to take a flight back to Toronto for all of eight hours so he could make sure she was okay.  John had to talk him out of it.  

“You’re the farthest thing from a bad boyfriend,” she said, running her fingers through his hair.  She knew it calmed him, much like when he did it to her.  When they were cuddling, besides having his hands on her ass or boobs, it was usually running gently through her hair.  “You’re the best boyfriend I’ve had.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not.  You really are,” she assured him.  She knew she didn’t particularly have to stroke his ego on the subject, but she wanted to make it known.  A mischievous grin appeared on her face.  “Definitely the biggest dick.”

He snorted loudly.  “I hope that’s not an exaggeration.”

“I guess you’ll never know,” she wiggled her eyebrows.  

He bit his lip before leaning in and kissing her, biting her bottom lip and dragging it with him as he pulled away.  “You’re a vixen, you know that?”  He pushed away from the counter.  “Come on, show me everything you bought.”

When he called her a vixen she thought of the lingerie she ended up buying.  Lucy was right – black did look good on her.  A few different pieces were bought, and Briony would definitely pull them out at some point – probably before he left for Christmas – but for now, she’d keep them a secret.  She had never put lingerie on for any previous boyfriends – mostly because she couldn’t afford it, but also because nobody had ever…requested it?  She didn’t know if these conversations came up with couples.  But with Morgan, she wanted to be ahead of the game.  She didn’t want him to have to ask; she wanted to give him the gift herself.  

She brought him back into the master bedroom and its large walk-in closet to see everything that was purchased for her.  He saw the different pairs of jeans, the work tops versus the casual tops, the fitted trousers and professional blazers, the work dresses and skirts.  He saw the designer pieces the girls convinced her to buy, in their own section in the closet.  He saw the new shoes, the runners, some flats and of course some heels.  He saw the new handbags, the Chanel pearl-studded crossbody, the Louis Vuitton tote, and the Yves Saint Laurent bag “for work”.  He saw the new luxurious bathrobe, the new silk pajamas, the fancy creams, shampoos, skincare, and makeup she now had.  The hair straightener.  The curler.  The good blow dryer.  

“What was it like with the girls for that?” he asked, running his fingers over a chiffon dress hanging near the end of the closet.  

She giggled slightly.  “It was an adventure,” she commented.  

“How so?”

She motioned to all the clothes hanging in the closet.  “They…we didn’t stop.”

“But that’s a good thing,” Morgan said.  “You have all this stuff now.”

“Isn’t that what it just is…stuff?” she asked.  Morgan gave her quizzical look.  “Like, don’t get me wrong.  I’m beyond grateful.  You have no idea what it feels like for me to have all this.  I never thought, in five lifetimes, that I’d ever have a Chanel bag, and now I have one.  I never thought I’d have even just a Kate Spade bag.  But I…have a Chanel bag now.  It’s all very weird, Morgan.”

“Why is it weird though?” he asked, shutting off the light in the closet as they exited.  He guided her towards her bed and sat down, pulling her on top of him so she was sitting on his lap.  “I told you before, you deserve nice things.  And yes, at the end of the day it is just stuff, but it’s nice stuff and stuff that you need.”

“Do I need a Chanel bag?”

“But you deserve it.”

“You don’t understand Morgan,” she said, shaking her head slightly.  She didn’t mean it in a bad way; she was just stating a fact.  Morgan grew up fairly rich, in a nice house in West Vancouver with both parents and a dog and membership at a country club.  She grew up in subsidized housing and rooming houses in downtown Toronto with a single alcoholic mother who relied on welfare to keep them from drowning.  His perspective on things was off in comparison to hers.  It was just the reality of the situation.  They came from two different worlds.  “You have to understand…my dreams don’t even go that far.”  

“What do you mean?” he cradled her face in one of his big hands.

“None of this was ever supposed to happen to me,” she whispered, a single tear rolling down her cheek.  “I mean I worked my way to a good education and hopefully a decent job, but it’s all in an effort to achieve modesty.  I was never going to have a Chanel bag.  I was never going to have Gucci loafers.  I was preparing myself for a decent apartment, and then hopefully when I met someone and got married, like, a bungalow in North York or something.  I was never supposed to be surrounded by money.  I was never supposed to be in the position to have a one hundred and twenty dollar bottle of wine at Cibo.”

Morgan wiped away her tears with the pad of his thumb and gave her a quick kiss.  “I know it’s hard for you to accept all this.  I know it’s completely out of your comfort zone.  I get it.  At least, I’m trying to.  But just because you didn’t expect it, doesn’t mean you can’t accept it.”

“I know, I know.  That’s what I have to reconcile with myself,” she said.  “Somewhere along the line the universe went crazy and now I’m here.  And I have to grow and learn and adapt.  I know.  It’s going to take some getting used to but I understand that I’m here now.”  She ran her thumb along the outline of his lips, staring into his bright blue eyes.  She gave him another quick kiss.  “I still don’t feel comfortable about one thing though.”

“What’s that?”

“I don’t feel right not paying them back,” she revealed.  “Ashley said she would burn any cheque or money I gave her, and Aryne and Lucy said the same, but it’s still not right.  I’m thinking I should maybe take out a loan because we spent quite the pretty penny.”

Morgan stiffened at her words but then sighed heavily.  “You don’t have to pay them back because it was me.”

She gave him a look of shock, like she couldn’t understand the words that were coming out of his mouth.  “Excuse me?”

“I gave Ashley my credit card when she dropped off Naz,” he revealed.  “Everything went on my card.  I told her to go crazy, and I knew she would, because she’s Ashley”

“Morgan.”

“And I’m gonna repeat Ashley’s sentiments.”

“Morgan,” she cried on the spot, tears streaming down her face.  “No no no no no no no,” she repeated over and over.

“Bumb--”

“Mo, how?” she wailed, trying to wriggle out of his grip.  “Wh-Wh-Wh…”

“Hey hey hey, stop,” he cooed, wiping her tears again, holding on to her tighter so she wouldn’t go anywhere.  “Briony, come on.  You actually think I wasn’t going to do everything in my power to help you?”

“Mo…”

“Shhhh, shhhh,” he wrapped his arms around her and laid down on the bed, bringing her with him so her body was laying on top of his.  “You deserve it, Bumblebee.  You’ve been through so much and this is the least I can do, okay?  Don’t think about it too much.”

Briony thought about the ramifications of his actions.  It was deliberate – on the part of everybody.  It wasn’t like he didn’t know what the girls were up to – he knew exactly.  And it wasn’t like Ashley, Lucy, or Aryne were billing him for what they spent.  Angie didn’t tell her when they went out.  No.  He had gone out of his way to give his credit card to Ashley, to tell her to ‘go crazy’, to cover every little thing she spent money on.  The girls must have given each other the credit card when Briony wasn’t looking.  She didn’t know if she should feel repulsed about the amount of money that would show up on his credit card bill.  She wanted to wrestle her way out of his arms and return everything.  She kept shaking her head.  “I’m never gonna be able to re-repay you or earn enough mon --”

“Don’t even think about it,” he said firmly.  “What did I just tell you?”

“Morgan, that’s a lot.”

“And I have a lot.  So don’t.”  There was a long moment of silence.  He knew she was thinking about all the stuff she bought, mentally calculating the cost of everything.  He knew he wouldn’t even think twice when his credit card bill came.   He looked down at her before he couldn’t help but add, “It is a really nice Chanel bag.”

She squeezed her body onto his more.  She had to agree; it was a nice bag.  It was at that point she realized she wasn’t going to win.  She let out a shaky breath and realized this was her life now – at least momentarily.  She wouldn’t be going on major, life altering shopping sprees again any time soon.  “You do this for me and then I can’t even come to the Florida game tomorrow because of my last two exams.  You said you feel like a bad boyfriend but I feel like a bad girlfriend.”

“Naaaah nah nah nah,” he shook his head, placing light kisses all over her face.  “You don’t worry that pretty little head of yours.  Studying is more important that coming to my games.  Always.”

“At least I’ll be done soon.”

“Wouldn’t matter.  You could decide to go get your PhD.  School is always more important,” Morgan said.  “You’re gonna, like, rule the world Briony.  You can’t do that with me expecting you to come to all my hockey games.”

She couldn’t help but giggle again.  “If I do become supreme ruler I promise to spare you.”

“Good.  I’ll bow at your feet everyday.”

“You’ll be my Starbucks boy,” she giggled.

“WOW,” he let out loudly, causing her to laugh.  “Is that all I’m good for?  Starbucks runs?” he asked, not expecting an answer.  “You still good to go to the Marleau’s Christmas party?”

She nodded her head.  “It’s the day after exams finish.  I’ll be good.”

“And you’re still spending Christmas with Angie and her family?”  She nodded her head again.  It was her ‘tradition’ to spend Christmas with Angie, whose family had unofficially adopted her for the holiday.  After the Detroit game on the 23rd, Morgan would be catching a red-eye to Vancouver after the game to spend Christmas with his family.  She didn’t want to have to think about him leaving again, but she had solace in the fact that they would be reunited on the 29th, when he’d be back in Toronto for a game against the Islanders.  “I’ll call you,” he assured her.  “We can FaceTime on Christmas.”

“That would be nice,” she smiled.  

“And then, um, in January,” he began, his voice a little bit more hesitant than before.  “We have a bye week.  I was going to go back to Vancouver, spend some time with my family.  I was um…I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come.”

Briony’s body stiffened slightly.  Was…was he really asking her to go to Vancouver with him?  To his hometown?  To meet his parents?  “I’ll have to see if I can afford it.”

“Briony.”

She cringed slightly.  It was her go-to response for everything involving money, but these days, she needed to think of something different because of course he’d be paying for her to go with him.  It would be her first time on an airplane.  “I’d want to Morgan, but I’d have to see.  I might be job hunting or have interviews.”

“But you’d want to come.”

“Well, yeah.”

That was apparently enough for him.  He didn’t say a word more; he just kept a hold on her as his eyelids fluttered closed for his pre-game nap.  

She could only stay in his arms for so long until the ramifications of the conversation she just had crept up on her and left her unable to fall asleep beside him.  Her mind was too active for sleep.  The lengths to which he went to have her recoup everything that she lost was extravagant.  Giving his credit card to a bunch of women with healthy spending habits wasn’t…logical.  Telling them to ‘go crazy’ was crazy in and of itself.  Not blinking twice when he saw all the clothes – the Gap, the Club Monaco, the Loft, the Banana Republic, the every other store she had never shopped in before, the Chanel, the Yves Saint Laurent, the Gucci – was just outrageous.  Right?  Like, any sane person would have seen that closet full of clothes and have said, “I think that’s a bit too much.”  Right?

Why would he do this?  Why would he willingly drop all that money on her?  She was just some girl.  Some girl from Toronto.  There was nothing special about her.  She was nice and she was smart and she worked hard, but she didn’t think there was much else to her.  She could be very stubborn sometimes.  She could be too proud, especially about her education.  She could roll her eyes too often in a conversation.  She could make too many snarky comments during a conversation and put people off.  Why did he do what he did so willingly, without a second thought?  Why was he so…nonchalant about it all?

As she moved out of his arms slowly, ensuring he didn’t wake up, she grabbed her phone out of her pocket and made her way to the bathroom is the second bedroom on the other side of the apartment.  She closed the door and sat on the floor before dialling Angie’s number, whom she knew was on lunch break.  

“Hi lover,” Angie answered cheerily.  

“Angie…he told me,” Bee said.  

“He told you what?” Angie asked nervously.

“He told me he gave you guys his credit card and that everything we bought, he paid for,” her voice was getting shakier the more words she said.  

“Oh.  Yeah,” Angie said.  “I was sworn to secrecy.  Is…” her voice was hesitant.  She knew her best friend was already crying.  “Bee…that’s not a bad thing.  You know that, right?  He’s helping you.”  Angie’s heart broke as she heard her best friend cry through the phone.  The sniffles and the deep breaths and the sobs she had to listen to made her physically ill.  

“He’s so good to me Angie.  Why is he so good to me?”

Bee’s voice was so frail and fragile.  “Bee…”

“Why is he so good to me?” she repeated, tears streaming down her face and sobs escaping her.  “What did I do to deserve this?  Why is he so good to me?”

“You were never meant to live a quiet, docile life,” Angie said in a soothing voice, trying to calm herself as much as she was trying to calm Bee.  “You were born for better circumstances that what you were born in to and what you grew up in.  I just wish you’d see that like everyone else around you sees it.”

“I don’t belong in this world.  Why am I living in an apartment without paying rent?”

“Bee, they’re helping you,” Angie stressed.  “You know if Mason and I had the means we’d be doing everything in our power to help you too.  They’re helping you in the way they know how.  It’s not your problem that they’re using their disposable income to help you.”

“But I’m not…I’m not…”

“Don’t you dare say you’re not worth it,” Angie said firmly.  “I don’t give a fuck what your absolute disgrace of a mother would tell you growing up, but you’re worth every fucking penny, every fucking ounce of effort anyone puts into having a relationship with you.  Do you hear me?  If I ever saw your mother anywhere I would fucking kill her for instilling this sense of worthlessness in you and for making you think like you don’t deserve anything or that you don’t belong somewhere.”

“Angie, I don’t want this without you,” Bee cried.  

“Bee, you’re not losing me.”

“I don’t want to change so much that you don’t recognize me, or I don’t recognize where I came from anymore,” Bee said.  “Money changes people, Angie.  I don’t want it to change me.”

“Money won’t change you, Bee.  You have strong principles.  Just because your boyfriend and his friends have money it doesn’t mean that it’s going to change you.  If anything, it might change him.  Might make him and those around him more grateful.”

“I don’t know…”

“Bee, you’re his girlfriend because of your character.  Everything else is secondary.  He wouldn’t be doing this if he wasn’t head over heels for you,” Angie explained.  “I know you guys have only been seeing each other a few months, but I’ve never seen you this way with another person.  You have to let go of any insecurities that you have that revolve around him having money and you not having money because that shit doesn’t matter to Morgan.”

“I don’t know what I did to deserve this.  I don’t know what God or what entity decided to have this become my life,” Bee said.  “I don’t want to lose you Angie.  You’re the only family I have.”

“You’re never going to lose me.  We’re going to be 90 years old with walkers and fake teeth in the same nursing home telling each other the same jokes we laugh about today,” Angie assured her.  “I love you, Bee.  You’re the sister I never had.  I’m never going to leave you.”

“I love you too Angie.  So much you don’t even know.”

[terresdebrume]

I am home

Well, I thought weddings were tiring before but let me tell you French weddings have nothing on Cambodian weddings (soft edition)!

I am currently slumped on my couch, waiting for meal delivery (and also maybe death, judging by the sting under my eyes xD) and vaguely thinking that I should maybe consider getting up to put my laundry out to dry (that will probably wait until I need to get down for my food, tbh).

Longer account of the past three days under the cut!

Things started pretty good on Thursday because no one was late or got  lost or had major trouble, and the minivan was even at the rendez-vous  point on time which, it being Cambodia, is not always a guarantee, even  if we did book the van for our group. We strapped down for an 8 hours  bus drive around 9:30pm and chatted a little bit before settling down and all would have been fine if, like the driver had driven like a reasonable person.

Which he did not.

Apparently  (I couldn't see the dial) we drove at an average of fifty-ish  kilometers per hours, sometimes sixty, which you just should not do on  Cambodian roads, especially not at night, on account of

The  poor state of the roads (especially considering the guy ditched the main  road and went for the country roads, aka sometimes we were drivingon  dirt trails more than actual roads)

Everyone drives but  almost no one has a license, which means you get a lot of really funny  behaviors like people driving without lights at dusk, people driving  with their lights at maximum intensity all the time (including anti fog  lights) or our own driver taking turns fast enough to make us all think  about barrel rolls every time

Sometimes, a roaming animal  appears! I'm pretty sure there's a veal out there who's still a little  shaken from our encounter with it on Thursday night.

So,  the trip was strange. The driver stopped about ever hour to go and pee  (we nearly forgot one of our friends, Champey, at one point. He was  lucky his girlfriend noticed his absence) but apparently didn't know a  place where there were actual toilets, which is how at least one of our   friends accidentally mooned a passing car and then a random and adorable  woman ended up taking us to her home so we could pee at two in the   morning.

(Side note, there is something really eerie about having   about nine or ten people crossing a random family's main living space,   motorbikes on the left and people asleep on the right, trying not to   overheat in the warm layers they put on to fight off the chill of   overeager air con and whispering about their misadventures in   toilet-using while traveling and the perils of our driver).

At one   point, we stopped to deliver a package (and also I think another dude   who wasn't with us but whom the driver must have sold a ticket to on the  side, because that's prety common in Cambodia) and then things mostly went in an uneventful, if really bumpy, way.

Although of course I  think all of us would have appreciated it if the buss ride had NOT   turned out to take 10 hours instead of the estimated eight.

Anyway,  we got to Ratanakiri province mostly in time for the wedding (I think around seven ish?) and went to change. I had to limp because eight hours  in a bus were hell on my left ankle, which I now know for certain is  sprained, but other than that it went fine. We did a bit of washing up,  changed, got ready, and rejoined the wedding... and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

I swear, so much of being a guest in a khmer wedding is about waiting xD

From  the outside, a lot of the ceremonies seemed to be essentially visual   things. Julie & Channy (the marrying couple) had to change outfits   throughout the day (Julie had EIGHT outfits to go through in a day! Plus  hairdos!) and a lot of the ceremonies seemed to be mostly about taking a  billion pictures of them under ever angle, slightly adjusting the pose  and thentaking another billion pictures from there. There was also a LOT  of talking, which I'm pretty sure doubled the length of everything and  felt really unusual to me... and then more waiting.

My favorite  part of the day was the last of the morning rites, during which the  newlyweds are surrounded by their parents and the attending 'stable  couples' and candles are passed around the circle of guests so they can  pass their hands through/over the candle and send the flames of love  toward the bride and groom. After that, anyone who wants it can go and  tie a red string around the couple's wrists to wish their marriage  longevity (the newlyweds are then supposed to keep the strings on at  least three days).

I didn't go and do that, because I really had to  go and prop my ankle up but also because I was embarrassed at not having  anything to give as an offering (I mean, I know Julie & Channy  wouldn't have minded, but I was still embarrassed). That is, honestly,  my only regret throughout the day x)

Anyway, after this ceremony,  which apparently the key one (as in the point where the couple is  officially married) our group was shown to the place where we'd sleep at  night and proceeded to 1. wash up a little and 2. collapse into a nap.  We pretty much slept on the bare hardwood floor so I was anticipating an  achy back when I woke up but that actually didn't happen at all which  was a great plus!

Then around six, we changed back into our pretty  utfits and went for dinner, which was delicious and greatly enjoyed.  There was one more ceremony, which I didn't see, and then some dancing  but at that point I went back to our sleeping spot because my ankle hurt  and it's not like I was going to do any dancing xD

In the  meantime, Champey (who took care of most of the dealing with the minivan  driver) had gotten a call from the driver who said he wanted to leave  at 4PM on Saturday, instead of 8pm like we'd planned. That was not  exactly well met by the group (at least the French portion was pretty  open about that. Khmer people tend to be more reserved about what they  think, but I'm not sure they were entirely un-annoyed either) but since  his argument was for security we thought it might actually be for the  best. So, we agreed, but asked him to drive us to a nearby lake we  wanted to visit on Saturday so we'd be on time. He was, apparently,  insistent that we should be ready to depart at the set time, which is  absolutely hilarious (in an ironic way) when you consider the propensity  of khmer people in general to not be punctual at all xD

(That's an  interesting culture gap tbh, and it would have been purely funny if we  hadn't been peeved about his wanting to change the departure time and  being difficult about our rendez-vous point in Phnom Penh the night  before).

So, come Saturday morning, we took the bus at ten (maybe  five past, mostly because of me, oops) went to the aforementioned lake  and dealt with the usual khmer/foreigners price difference, then had to  wait while someone (either the driver or the lake guards) refused to  take the $20 bill they were given on the basis that it was 'too damaged'  (it was not). And then, finally, WATER! :D

I'm a huuuuuge water  baby, I could spent entire days in the water if I have someone or a book  to pass the time with, so obviously that rejuvenated me in record time.  We had a great time there, bathed a lot, ate a lot (the caramelized   chicken was delicious) and I bought a shirt. It was really cool.

We  were mostly done around 3:30pm, so we called the minivan so he'd come and get us, but when the driver and his wife arrived and opened the   door, it turned out there were now two car engines there, one of which   was in the way of entering and exiting the minivan. It took something   like twenty minutes of insisting before the driver agreed to move it to the front, where his wife sat (she wasn't happy about it) because he   tried telling us we'd only reserved 15 seats in an 18 seats minivan   (wrong, we'd gotten the whole vehicle) and then apparently said the   engines were for a nearby delivery (they were still with us when we   reached Phnom Penh) and then the guys (minus me) had to move the engine up to the front themselves.

So that was fun.

The  ride back to Phnom Penh was as bumpy as the ride out of it, but there was a lot more singing and aside from two really scared dogs there   wasn't really anything of notice. We got proper toilet breaks this time (lucky for the periods-havers of the group) and even got to buy some   bamboo rice on the way there, which was a really nice evening meal :D

After  that, it was mostly a matter of waiting the ten hours to Phnom Penh,   getting in tuktuks (in my case, with one of the group members who   couldn't go home to her parents (or didn't dare ride alone?) at 2am) and  crashing into bed.

And today, or mostly this afternoon, will be mostly dedicated to being a couch potato until bedtime as far as I'm concerned xD