*sigh*

I love married life... All ye who are cynical of romance avert your eyes now or be offended....

Fridays just got more excellent as I sit here at my desk enjoying the prospect of going out and getting fucked up with my husband tonight at a Killa Kela gig after we participate in an installation involving thousands of tiny ceramic bluebirds scattered around the cast courts of the V&A.

It’ll probably rain all weekend and gales are forecast but that doesn’t matter because it means that we have more of an opportunity to drink cups of coffee and read the papers or simply stay in bed, which has recently become a thousand times more comfy.

And if we’re cooking in the evening I know that he’ll peel the butternut squash and mash the potatoes, and if there’s housework to be done he’ll clean the kitchen while I hoover.

And if I wake up in the night crying he holds me...... and best of all he knows what’s wrong without having to ask.

I was just reading Boo’s blog and was surprised to learn she has a thing for Gordon Brown. That is odd, I thought.

Then I realised that I have a big thing for Osama Bin Laden (beautiful and dignified) and remembered that Carla Parr has a thing for George W.(Ahem)

Each to their own, I say. I am glad we’re all weird together in our little Mile End community.

So Turtle and I toddled along to a small family dinner on Saturday in St Martin’s Crypt....... only to find that it was not a small family dinner at all, it was a huge fuck-off surprise party complete with turtle themed cake, ceremony, speeches, indie DJ, balloons, childhood photos on the walls, wedding DVD screenings, tons of champagne and more presents than we could shake a stick at.

Organised by my Mum, Hels & Boo with equal amounts of deceit and love, it was the most fabulous night I have ever had and we feel very cherished indeed. Thankyou so much ladies, you really are wonderful.

The range of guests was just mindblowing. The burners were there, as was our landlord. Family members we have not spoken with for five years rubbed shoulders with my (now yardie) ex-staff. Add that to old bosses, best mates from school, parents of best mates from school, mates from the festival scene, mates off the indie scene, exes, close family, extended family, rats (of course!) and you get what can only be described as “This is Your Life.”

Highlights include but are not limited to:

My 11 year old brother’s face as he encountered his first ever six-foot glam tranny. (Courtney Cuntface)

My dad calling Turtle a drunken bastard – This means he has accepted him

My mum bopping about with the rats in a cyber dread hairpiece

My Uncle Frankie saying that our children are going to save the world

My mum donning my Dad’s cowboy hat so that her speech would be a joint effort

Turtle’s Dad parading about in Dougal’s el-wire Admiral jacket

Everyone – parents included - dancing with their shoes off to the Libertines at the end of the night

Spending lots of quality time with my Sargent and my husband after everyone else had crashed out.

Turtle’s Dad describing me as “a meteorite that came into their lives” in his speech – rather diplomatic considering.

My heavily pregnant sister in-law risking a cockney baby by being there.

My brother behaving with the most decorum a Josef can display.

The rats outlasting everyone – of course they did....

Spending the evening with (almost) everyone that I love most in the world - what more could I ask for?

And oh yes, our first dance......

Thank you Banksy.

So things are decidedly odd....

The evenings are filled with domestic bliss: Jurtle do their washing, Jurtle go to Lidl, Jurtle share delicious house meals with the rats, Jurtle meet on the tube platform after work and embrace in manner of fifties paperback romance.

The nights are sweaty and restless, filled with insomnia and nightmares. Last night my dreams featured a strange new society with secret police, sinister characters and mysterious symbols above my hotel room bed. Everyone I knew was in on my fate but no-one would tell me what was happening. Betrayal and fear is the theme in the darkness, it seems. Or fear of betrayal.

I blame watching X-Men 3 on the flight home. It’s obviously far too hardcore for me.

The desert challenged all my preconceptions once again.

This time it was preconceptions from the virgin Burn that were smashed. Some of my expectations of joy, community, sharing & love were broken down as the week went on.

It's true to say there were still large fuck-off measures of those things (particularly compared to the default world) but some elements within the Burn conspired to remove any innocence from the experience. Shifts in relationships and group dynamics seemed to be prevalent this year. These were both positive and negative, and in true desert style, were very intense either way.

I have done a lot of thinking about it and come to the conclusion that I am pleased I experienced the dark side of Black Rock City and I love the place all the more for it.

That wily desert....never quite what you expect.

However, throughout it all, one thing was constant. Turtle and I grew closer every day. I have never in my life experienced such complete support. It was the perfect preparation for the most perfect, indescribably beautiful wedding ceremony. I feel completely blessed and totally in love.