Isn't she lovely...

Here's my little sister, less than an hour before saying vows to my new brother in law. Mum made the dress she's wearing, and the cake we all dined upon later as well - she's quite a talented lady, my ma. You can't glean a real appreciation of it here, but the whole bodice was hand beaded with thousands of Swarovski crystals - so subtle and ethereal. The skirt had a train which just swept the ground as Bec walked, and mum installed a nifty bustling system, which gave the gown a new dimension, quite pretty.

The whole day was a delightful confection. I must say that all through the morning I was holding up nicely, and was confident that I would get through the day mostly emotionally unaffected. Then we're in the church annexe, listening to the first few notes of the wedding march song (Des'ree's 'Kissing You'), and the tears start to well in my eyes. I raced up that aisle, desperate to reach the altar so that I could sop up the tears with the tissue I'd secreted away in my cleavage. Then I look at Nathan, whose eyes were also glossy with tears, and I started all over again! The ceremony was touching, the photos were as fun as could be expected when one is wearing a halter neck satin dress, in 15 degree weather, and the reception was a blast. I cried again at the speeches, they were charmingly honest and affectionate. It was all over way too soon, and I simply cannot wait for our day to come along so that we can go through it all over again.

But a few gears shifted in my head the next day (may have been the ten litres of champagne killing off my brain cells). As you can plainly see, my sister is a stunning creature. She deserved every compliment she received, and I'm sure she felt every bit as gorgeous as she looked. At my size, I'm just not able to believe the compliments which come my way. People were generous with praise about my appearance that day, and of course I accepted it all gracefully, but in the back of my mind I'm thinking 'yes, I'm pretty, but fat too, right?'.

So, the next Weight Watchers meeting is tomorrow. And I'll be joining. I used to work for them, and had to give it up as my old employers told me to, so that I could be more available for the company. I protested at the time, knowing that WW was what I needed - the support, the pressure of monitored weigh-ins, the advice - but gave in, reluctantly. As expected, I gained all my weight back. I'm really looking forward to walking back in there - that surge of anticipation, all the encouragement, as well as friends I came to adore - very addictive!

I understand though, that food is only half the issue. I maintain my fitness fairly well, but I'm always looking for new challenges. My little brother plays squash at the gym, and I've always wanted to join him. Plus a few weeks ago, my mum took me along as a guest to an RPM (cycling) class, and the buzz was just electric. So before I join WW, I'm going to join the gym as well.

I'm gonna do this - the goal is attainable (69 - 71 kgs), and I'd like to be at least halfway there before I start trying on wedding dresses in September. Can do! I can't be exactly sure what my weight will be tomorrow morning, as I usually weigh myself in a satin nightgown, sans shoes, and before breakfast, but I'm expecting that a 40 kg voyage is ahead of me.

I think that I just wanted to get all of Bec's wedding out of the way, didn't want to mess up the bridesmaid's dress by losing weight and needing to have it re-sewn, plus I didn't want to deny myself all the treats that a wedding entails. Bec's had her day in the sun, now it's time for me to focus on my goals.

Celery, anyone?