The day I became a Buzzcocks fan

Dear Diary,

Holy actual shit. Cor bloody blimey and crikey, with ants on top. Yet again, you catch me on anonther Landmark day - or rather, 2 days after one. You literally will not BELIEVE my tale. Or rather, you will, because this is real life, and these things happen everyday, everywhere. But still - humour me. It's a tale of passion, madness, danger, adventure, love, freedom, hilarity and food. OK, maybe only one of those. BUT WHICH??? Read on.....

Starting off where I left you last week: Thursday was shite. Got called into work, thereby missing a vital last-one-before-next-exam Deaf Class..... all so I could sit in a dead pub. Seriously, at one point there was literally just one customer for a whole 2 hours. I didn't even need to be there.

Friday - was a cross between brilliant and awful. Brilliant because, due to another staff dropout (why are they so in vogue at the moment??) at Mum's shop, I've now been called in as a replacement on Fridays. Helloooooooooooo extra £40 a week! And brilliant because I had a slight "pregnancy relief," if you like. Truth be told, as staunch as I am on condom-sex, a few weeks ago, I relented, briefly. Harmless I suppose, as we've both been tested (who said romance was dead?), were very careful, and if anything else..... he's my boyfriend. OK, I snapped..... and have been letting Joe do the unthinkable for a while now. But whilst I knew there was little-to-no chance of it happening, I did get slightly paranoid a few days ago, when naught had arrived. But no worries.

So that was brilliant. But Friday was also awful. Awful because, in a shocking twist, Joe has been made redundant.

Having picked up a subdued voicemail from him (whilst hiding in the loos) I raced onto my break to call him and make sense of things. Mum was surprisingly understanding - well, she has been there before, I suppose. After a lot of phone calls and texts, it emerged that, despite just having his contract extended, he's now out. Goodbye to his discounted travel, good pay, steady job, etc.... Naturally he was completely gutted. I spent a lot of time trying to say the right thing (what CAN you say, really?) but he just seemed to be worried that I was going to leave him "because he didn't have a job." Like balls I will. He's stuck with me, and I've been unemployed since I met him - not to mention I'm not particularly driven by money as it is (a characteristic Dad has told me never ever to lose). Obviously I launched into a massive I'm-not-with-you-for-your-money spiel, which seemed to cheer him up.

As he'd walked out of work, we met up earlier than usual, heading back to his for pizza and a cracking night of Friday night telly. Derren Brown, Peep Show, IT Crowd, Inbetweeners - what's not to love? Tried the Derren Brown glued-to-your-sofas trick, but it didn't work on either of us. Maybe, in all fairness, because we were on a bed. But still, he is strangely magnetic to watch. I wonder if it's true that he's gay?

Later though, his mystic powers caused an alarming incident - just as we were in bed, slowly drifting off to sleep, Joe turned over, and in a very worried voice, procclaimed that; "Derren Brown's just given me an erection." Now, BEAR WITH ME. As I started getting extremely (and understandably) fucking confused, he told me that he'd been lying there, drifting off to sleep, and just as his mind wandered onto the evening's hypnotic sofa experiment, Captain Joe had sprung to attention. What the hell??! Well, I'm not one to let it go to waste, so, after a good bout of hysterical laughing, took matters into my own hands, as it were. But damn. What could this MEAN?? I came up with 2 conclusions:

1) Joe is secretly gay and represses it, even to himself.
2) That bearded trickster Mr. Brown secretly put erection-causing subliminal frames/messages into his programme for the sole purpose of ensuring that some men across the UK will get laid on Friday night. Or just to freak them out.

It's entirely possible.

So, onto Saturday - the landmark day. Pretty average day - went to town, bought the rest of Shaun's present, got home, wrapped it, pampered. Went to work with an outfit in a bag - all the better for changing into and zooming off into town to celebrate Joe's friend Chris's birthday! Am slightly ashamed but also a little proud of what I came up with as a method for "pre-night-out-drinking." You know, the type you do when you're getting ready, to get a fun little buzz on before you go out, and also save money getting pissed? I managed to pour almost an entire bottle of Rose wine into a "Fruits of the Forest flavoured" water bottle. Perfect cover, eh? Got chanegd in the loos at work and then I was off, sipping my "water" and waiting for the tram. I know, I know, I'm such a wino. But at least not an OBVIOUS wino - to anyone else I was just a girl, dressed for a night on the tiles, drinking flavoured water (Wore the new brown top/dress over leggins, with heels and pearl accessories).

Met Joe on the tram, who, incidentally, LOVED the wine idea, and even partook of a few sips. Ah, someone who understands my strange and disturbing ways, BRILLIANT! Soon we were stood in a trendy Oxford Road bar, waiting for the others. As Joe ordered the drinks (me feeling very guilty as I remembered his recent redundancy) I turned to my left to see two attractive lads stood right next to me, staring straight at me. After a few seconds of confusing staring back, I realised it was Pete and Matt (not before they clocked that I hadn't recognised them - d'oh!), who gave me a hug and a kiss, just as I was offering to shake his hand. Damn him, I'd forgotten how gorgeous he was. Oh well, a girl can look!

I forgot how much fun it is to go out with boys, though - I may have been the only X-chromosome there, but damn, you hear things that make you laugh till you nearly cry. And there's a hell of a lot more drinking. Anyway, after an hour chattering away, we went to another bar, where we were joined by the birthday boy. And then It happened.

After attacking the jukebox and quiz machine for half an hour, I stood watching some of the lads play pool, admiring the huge "Pink Floyd Back Catalogues" poster on the wall - same as the one Lisa gave me, months ago. All of a sudden, a fast song with a wicked bassline came on, a song I'd heard a million times before, but never knew the lyrics - or even the name. Joe approached me, looking very nervous. And then, I kid you not, this is (roughly) how the conversation went.

K: "You OK?"
J: "Yeah, fine. You like this song?"
K: "Meh.... don't really know it. Why?"
J: "I put it on for you."
K: "Aw, sweet! Thanks!"
J: "You don't know it, do you?"
K: "Yeah I do....... kinda. Can't hear the lyrics, though."
J: "Aw, no.... see, that's why I put it on, cos of the lyrics. I've been wanting to say this for ages, and I didn't know how to."
K: "Say what? Hang on, let me listen..... (*tucks large amounts of huge curly hair behind ears and attempts to distinguish words*) No, sorry, what're they saying?"
J: "The song's called 'Ever fallen in love' and the lyrics are basically 'Ever fallen in love with someone you shouldn't have.'"
K: "Oh right, cool!"
(*Massive, epic pause as something very large suddenly clunks into place in Kat's brain*)
K: "Wait a minute...... you just said....... in love."
J: "Yeah."
K: "You....... wait, you mean...... Wait, seriously?"
J: "Yeah...... (*Huge, anguished pause*) Look, I tried to keep it to myself, I'm sorry, I don't want to put any pressure on you, but it's just..... I don't know, there's something about you, and you just make me so happy when I'm with you. You're always doing all these lovely things for me, and you're just so sweet all the time. All my mates love you, my dad thinks you're great, and I just...... I never expected to find someone like you."
K: (*Stunned expression*) "Why 'shouldn't' you have fallen in love, though? What's wrong with that?"
J: "Because I've only known you 4 months, and I know it's not that long, so I didn't want to rush things. And you know, you don't have to say it back, but...... I'm sorry, this is not the most romantic time or place to say it, but I couldn't hold it in any longer. When we went to Chill Factor that time, and you beat me down the slope and you were taking the piss out of me - I started getting really annoyed, and then I just realised, 'You're not annoyed, you love her!' So, you know..... I just wanted you to know."
K: (*Tears brimming up*) "I love you too"

And with that, I turned tail, and fled to the loo.

I sat on the toilet, sobbing hysterically and beaming over my face, through the sobs. I wondered why I was crying so much, and then realised it was because I was scared. I was scared of opening myself up again, I was scared of trusting another man, I was scared of everything and anything. And then (possibly aided by alcohol consumption) I realised that I was scared for a reason - because I've never been in love before. I was terrified by what it meant, and how it worked, and what was going to happen next in the great adventure of Life. I was scared of the concept and how it left you feeling whenever things went tits up. But somehow I knew that with Joe, it wasn't going to happen.

I dried my face and walked out to hastily re-apply make-up. Becky (Chris's girlfriend) appeared and asked if I was OK. Fair enough, all they saw was me with tears running down my face, running to the loo after a long talk with Joe. Apparently Matthew even took him aside and berated him for "upsetting" me (awwwww!). I told her what happened, she smiled and understood.

Went back out and had a very lengthy discussion with Joe about it all. Can't remember it all, and it's too long to reccount anyway. Suffice to say, we left the place very happy bunnies indeed. I cheered when I got out onto the street.

The only thing that worried me was the complete lack of physical reaction. Given all the millions of books/films/plays there are on the subject, I expected the feeling of being in love to be something akin to fireworks, sparks and joyous head-spinning excitement. But I haven't once felt that. Maybe I'm jaded? Or just have too much of a "modern" approach to it all? Who cares? All I know is how I feel now. And it feels good.

(P.S: Here's the actual song. You'll know it, even if you think you don't)

Moved on to several bars after that, before staggering to the Night Bus, homeward bound. I sat behind an older guy I knew from uni, and sang along to my Ipod out loud.

Sunday - woke up in Joe's bed, Macdonald's bag on the floor (Ooops). Was a little shy at first, but after a little it-wasn't-the-drink-talking-was-it? chat, things were repeated and the morning was brightened, despite the quite abnormally massive hangover. To cure it, we wandered to the corner shop to pick up some munchies and went to the local park. We sat and had a picnic on a bench. I ate Dairylea Lunchables for the first time in years. We watched the remote-controlled speedboats create rainbows for a brief second, as they whizzed through the water. And we discussed that the blind steaming fucking hell we're going to do, now neither of us have jobs. Obviously, we have to get proper, well-paying ones. And soon. Neither of us can stand living at home anymore, and to have a flat to move into, you must have wonga.

Both of us have the same work ideals: we want to get very well-paid for doing as little as possible, or at least something challenging that we enjoy doing. I don't want to work for anyone, I don't want to do the 9-5, watching the clock and counting down till the next break. And neither does he. So essentially, we're fucked. I mean, there is nothing out there as it is, and very little to fuck-all we could get to match our criteria in this unstable time. We stared desperately at a passing Canadian goose, as if hoping it would give us financial advice. We chatted to a war veteran who stopped in front of us on his motorized wheelchair. We wandered through the nearby woods and fields, throwing ideas around. Maybe we'd both become published authors! Maybe we'd become highly-paid Sign Language Interpreters! (Apparently they can fetch up to £60 an hour. £60. AN HOUR!!!) Maybe we could do whatever the fuck we wanted! We could just stay in all the time, watching "Top Gear" and having sex, and emerging only for food! Silly ideas, I know, but it was a glorious sunny day, we'd professed our love, we were still fairly young and for a minute, as dreamy and impossible as it sounds, it really did feel like everything would be alright.

Back at his we watched the "Mock the Week" DVD I bought him and celebrated our retreating hangovers - and the fact that I wasn't in work till the evening. We went for the "Last Supper" - a curry at our favourite place to mark the last time we'd be able to just casually go out, now we were both having to save.

The shift at work was completely dead. But I had a smile on my face all night.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Current Mood: still slightly stunned
Current Music: "Ever fallen in love" - The Buzzcocks (well, it had to be downloaded!)