Here Comes My Man

Is it too early to suggest I have already been blown away by somebody's brilliance? More of that later but it is my pleasure to report that I have definitely turned a corner and the shitness is subsiding. It's early days but things are looking up. It's times likes these when you start to realise the importance of amazing family and friends and realise that I did last weekend. My cousin got married and despite having mixed feelings about attending my first wedding without a man on my arm, it was just wonderful. I was a bridesmaid AND I did a reading. Seriously they should pay me for this shit. It was an all round super day and it felt like I was watching a sister, not a cousin.

Of course it didn't pass without a couple of minor mortifying moments:

Horrendous wedding moment # 1 - this happened on the dance floor. I think we were dancing to the Stone Roses so imagine an all round happy me banging imaginary drums to my heart's content.

Male relative: where is Mr. LK tonight?

Me: international sign for knife across throat indicating it was not a matter up for discussion

Male relative: What?! Not another one! What's wrong with you woman? You need to stop thinking about your career and find yourself a man!

Thanks. Cunt.

Horrendous wedding moment # 2 - a particularly buxom family friend decided that to make up for asking where Mr. LK was earlier that day, she would ensure that I caught the bouquet. Who throws a bouquet in 2012?! My cousin, actually. We were summoned to the dance floor and as the bouquet flew though the air, over my head (phew), said family friend barged her way through a crowd of eager (desperate) women and dived to catch it. And catch it she did. And she ran back to me with the bouquet held aloft. And she handed it to me, and lifted me up and made me punch the air with mock glee. I did all of this to rapturous applause. It was probably the most embarrassing moment of my life. Apart from burning my nipple with an iron. That was bad. But I don't care about any of that. I tore up the dance floor, drank copious amounts of alcohol to the sheer astonishment of my parents (I think they were secretly impressed) and pulled the groom's friend. A Tory councillor. Suitably disgraceful behaviour and it felt bloody amazing!

So, the real reason I am walking around with a big grin on my face is this. I am going on a date. With a man. From the Internet. We have been having marathon textathons every night for the past week and I feel like a teenager. A SERIOUSLY sleep deprived one at that. He is taking me out on Saturday to a pub in the Northern Quarter and we are going to have a jukebox-off. He is a geeky indie kid with a maths degree. He laughs at my stupid jokes and has a sense of humour possibly a shade more purile than my own. He said that if the date goes well he will treat me to a bag of peanuts. He asked about my exit plan - he has an emergency phone call lined up for 9pm. I told him that I am bringing my own bar snacks and that if anyone asks, I am going to say that I ordered him off the Internet. We have dissected our date in such detail that I am slightly nervous it will be a disappointment. He said "we will be ok". Four words so simple that my heart sang. And then slumped when I realised that those four words cold have saved my last relationship. That is all I ever wanted him to say. Boom. So in the build up to our date, I will undoubtedly make notes on what I will say if the chat dries up (it won't), what I will wear (I've already told him) and the many ways that I plan to stop myself from retreating to his place at the end of the night (where he lives, alone). I can't do that. This could be too good. I will keep you posted.