So my friend K marries her very own Knight on Shiny Airplane on Friday… to explain, last year whilst on a family trip to Venezuela (beautiful place apparently), she met and fell in lust with E. On her return to good old Blighty, she promptly roped another friend into booking a couple of flights and going back to check out aforementioned stud muffin. Friend gave him the thumbs up, and a further three months later E was happily ensconced in the family home, feet under the table, slippers under the bed and all that jazz… fast forward to Christmas and there was a rock produced, a down on one knee moment, a wedding date planned and here you are. Bob's your Uncle, Fanny's your Aunt. Friday is the Big Day. In less than 12 months, a friend (some 6 years younger than me I hasten to add) has managed to meet, fall in love with, live with, get engaged to and MARRY The One.
Now, I’m not saying that K doesn’t thoroughly deserve to be a happily married woman. I’m not saying she isn’t a catch. I’m not even necessarily saying I would have wanted to have some amazing holiday romance that culminated in a marriage. I’m not really even saying that I so strongly believe in the whole till “death us to part” business that I’ve been planning my own special day since I could walk (honest, I’m not), and I don’t even think I could find Venezuela on a map. However, what I suppose I am saying is this…. taking Boo out of the equation, if I was thinner would someone else have met me, fallen in love with me, lived with me, got engaged to me and married me within a year….and is the fact that I’m a chubster a contributing factor to my single not married status?
Answers on a postcard to Ye Olde Spinster, c/o Cats Piss Hall, Rocking Chair Walk.