Always the Bridesmaid

Man, I'm knackered. I was at my mate's sister's wedding last night til about 1am then up at 8am this morning to man a volunteer stall and I've only just finished clearing out the garage (on my mother's subtle request). A shower, a cuppa and a melatonin await methinks!


To be fair though, it has been an entertaining and rewarding 24 hours. Cordially invited to a wedding reception on the exclusive grounds of Mere Golf Club (where even muttering the words 'pitch n putt' in jest will result in an instantaneous blackballing) I spent my evening drinking expensive Kaliber, dodging a demanding ten-year old who'd found the two people closest to his own mental age, outdancing everyone to Madge's finest and waiting for my mate to chat to his new sister-in-law, whom he fancies but finds it morally unforgivable to ask out based on the fact that they are now related. Despite Darwin and I both assuring him of the biological fitness of any progeny born of this union, he was unflappable. I think he should've considered it. I sat on my tod, like Wilhelm fekking Keinfreunden, for at least half an hour to give him time to talk to her on his own. It's a gentlemen's agreement. Ciaran described my act as 'Above and Beyond', especially if he wasn't going to get anywhere. The fact he wasn't going to get anywhere of his own volition was particularly frustrating. But what can you do: he boy's not for plucking.

Bleary-eyed and cursing myself for agreeing to be good on a Saturday I schlepped over to nearby Timperley to help out a fellow volunteer run a stall at a local fete. Any thoughts of sleep were soon shaded out by a blue sky, plenty of interested locals and photo opportunities of the mayor and papier-mache-headed northern monkey Frank Sidebottom. Like the media whore I am I filled the vacant spot in each photo left by my camera-shy colleague. Now I just need to get my picture in the paper. Anyone have Matt or Luke Goss's number?

Finally I came home around 4 to start clearing out the garage. Well, clearing it out enough to fit the car in when winter comes. 6 hours that took me. I could have left it until tomorrow, but I want to go to a local farm for a harvest festival. Even if I don't make that I'd like a day off. Sometimes dear old mother doesn't understand this concept as much as I'd like. She'd ideally like me to drive her up Cumbria to see my uncle next Saturday morning despite the fact that I'm volunteering on another stall all day Sunday. I'm putting my foot down. The guy didn't see anyone for 18 years, so breaking the 3-week visiting schedule isn't going to be a body blow. I was up there last week with my friend's for Christ sake!

I try not to snap at mum, I really do, and I wouldn't if she didn't try to get a little jibe in every now and then. Doing stuff for your mum isn't a problem, but it's when they pick at the little thing you didn't do, well that tends to drain the humanity from my expression and pump the venom to my tongue. I'm learning to ignore it - observing duck's backs and all that lark - but the schooling is slow. Natural state sees my heart quick to pound and venom course sharply to my tongue.

But I see such education as the entrance exam for a higher institution. Namely, marriage.

Metal Monkey: Has a temper like your jealousy; when the night is so black that the darkness cooks.