1744: Congratulations to Cat and John

It was the wedding of my friends Cat and John today up here in sunny Aberdeen, Scotland. It’s pretty rare to have a horrible wedding — though I’m sure they happen on occasion — but I am, unsurprisingly, pleased to report that it was a jolly nice day, with a pleasantly short ceremony (in which I did indeed read the shit out of the poem I’d been provided with, and was subsequently complimented by all manner of people I’d never met before throughout the rest of the day), a tasty meal that struck a good balance between being posh and actually being edible, and an enjoyable evening of ceilidh music and dancing. (I must confess to not having indulged in much of the dancing, primarily because I don’t really enjoy it but also because my trousers were at risk of falling down partway through Strip the Willow.)

Cat is one of my oldest friends that I’m actually still friends with. She was the first person I ever met at university, and something of a fixture in my life throughout the course of my undergraduate studies. We haven’t seen each other all that much for the last few years — primarily because she lives in a whole other country (yes, Scotland totally counts as being a whole other country) — but it was nice to see her today and it be pretty much like the intervening years simply hadn’t happened; the only difference was that she was wearing a big, impractical dress and had a different surname.

The fact I’m friends with Cat reminds me of one of my secret proudest moments. It may not sound much — particularly if you’re not someone who has suffered with social anxiety — but it was a big deal to me.

Let me explain.

Prior to starting university properly, I had signed up for a pre-term music course, during which I’d have the opportunity to play with members of the university symphony orchestra, as we indulged in some intensive rehearsal and study over the course of a single week, culminating in a performance of Shostakovich’s 5th symphony and Beethoven’s 7th symphony. I had never performed a full symphony before, and here I was preparing to perform two of them after just a week of rehearsal. It was challenging, but fun.

What was more challenging to me, though, was the prospect of meeting new people. I’d already established in my mind at secondary school that I wasn’t quite sure how to go about making new friends or meeting new people, so I was quite nervous about going to university. (I had also contemplated, as I’m sure many people had, making up a cool nickname for myself, but never quite had the guts to go through with lying to potential new friends about what “everyone calls me”.)

So it was that I found myself in the lift after the first day of the music course, heading up to the 15th floor of Stoneham Halls of Residence to get a bit of rest. Also in the lift with me was Cat — although I didn’t know who she was yet, aside from the fact that she was in the string section. As the doors closed, I decided that I was going to bite the bullet and actually try to make a new friend. So I introduced myself. And, as often happens when I take a social “risk” like this, I was surprised to discover that I didn’t die, wasn’t punched in the face and wasn’t showered with acid from my conversational partner inexplicably turning into a giant, acid-spitting snake-like creature. Instead, I found out the name of someone, got to know them a bit and had a ready-made excuse to escape when I reached the 15th floor. Ideal.

Over the early days at university, I came to know Cat quite well. Having grown up in a school where interests were divided quite sharply along gender lines — it was also the days before being a geek was “cool”, although the relatively recent introduction of Sony’s PlayStation meant that situation was changing — it was quite surprising to meet someone of the female persuasion who not only tolerated the presence of video games, but also appeared to be genuinely interested in them. We spent many an hour sitting in my room playing Final Fantasy VIII and Point Blank together — to date, I’m not sure I’d ever be able to name Rinoa anything but “Cat” — and we had a most enjoyable time getting through our music (well, English and music in my case) degrees together.

In short, she’s one of those friends that will almost certainly be a constant presence in my life for many years to come yet, and I’m really happy to see her so happy today. I wish her and John a long and happy life together, and that new life for them starts today.

Thanks for a great day, Mr and Mrs Cowe. Have a very happy life!