OMG! The weekly diary of Cathy, a southside Yummy Drummie
Ohmigod, I so totally love girlie nights. Now that things are patched up again with Lisa and me and all the girls are taking it easy and not drinking and stuff until the Debs, I decide to have them all over to mine for a night of pampering, bitching and general amazingness. Yay!
I invite the usual crew from school, as well as my new friend from UCD, Holly. She's like, super sweet, from Galway, so has this adorable little accent and, in fairness to her, is quite good looking. I mean, obviously I'm hotter, but you get me.
So they arrive and it's all like, air kisses and hugs and shrieks and stuff, until things settle down and I put on the microwave popcorn (Ohmigod, did you know you can now get a low fat version? Soo totally perfect), and the night begins. Holly seems to be like, fitting in ok, as I've warned all the girls to be like, sound or whatever. The only thing is, she's such a nice girl, but sometimes, she can be a little like, thick!
For example, we're sitting there bitching about this girl from Law in UCD who cheated on her boyfriend with this total minger from Michael's and then broke her ankle when her Dior stiletto broke when she was getting into a taxi on Leeson Street last Wednesday night -- totally classic stuff. But then Holly like, pipes up: "Well, that's korma for you!" I almost choke on the grape I'm munching (the less calorific version of sweets if you ask me), but I don't want to like, say anything or whatever. I'm hardly going to be, like: "Eh, don't you mean 'karma', you idiot, not some stupid Chinese curry dish." Or is it Indian? Whatever.
But I'm not exactly the biggest geek in the entire world, so I just like, change the subject and suggest we put on a DVD. I have like, the entire collection of Sex and the City, so we stick on an episode, settle back and I'm feeling completely chilled. I actually totally adore this show -- I mean, it's just so fashionable and cool and sexy and stuff -- basically me in a programme! Only joking! But I'm not going to lie, sometimes I do get some amazing tips from it for things to like, try with Johnny and stuff, so it's like entertaining AND practical.
We're getting a hotel room for after the Debs which is going to be so totally amazing. I just hope he notices how incredibly slim my stomach is going to be, because this girl in college was telling me that for the weeks coming up to her Debs, every time she wanted to snack, she'd just eat watermelon, "cause it makes you like, pee loads, so your tummy totally disappears". Needless to say I like, took her advice. Needless to say I am peeing like a total racehorse these days. And we're talking majorly!
But as long as Johnny appreciates it, then it's worth it. Things are better with me and him at the moment -- the whole Mark Mahon buzz feels like ages ago and we've seen a lot more of each other which is savage. He like, never goes to college, so he's always up for lunch or hanging out or ...
My dirty train of thought is broken by the girls eruptions of laughter as Carrie says something totally vulgar about men not being able to get it up. Ohmigod, can you like, imagine? However, apparently we don't all have to imagine, as Holly pipes up: "Happened to my ex boyfriend all the time."
We all pause in shock. Who on earth would say something like that? See I told you -- totally thick! But she does make me smile, that's for sure. And, she has the most incredible collection of designer handbags I've ever seen -- like, I'd say when the stork delivered her to her parents she was in like, a freaking Fendi or something.
Three episodes and a hell of a lot of low-fat popcorn later, everyone is having a savage time. I am like, born to be a hostess! But while I half-listen to what the Sex and the City girls are rambling on about and half concentrating on painting my toenails, my ears tune in to one particular line about a missed period. Hate that -- it's never happened to me before. Like, mine run like clock work. I mean ... Wait, what day is it?
That's when it hits me -- it's a Saturday. And I get my period on Thursdays. Ohmigod.
I don't know what to do -- I can't just leave the room or all the girls will notice how pale I've just gone. I can't just sit here, and like, pretend everything's ok. How did I not notice that up until now? Ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod!
"Cathy, are you alright?" Lisa asks, like the big loud-mouthed muppet she is.
"I'm fine, just smudged my nail polish that's all," I lie, throwing her a filthy and hoping my pathetic lie has done enough.
Deep breaths Cathy. I'm sure it's like, totally fine ...
But what if it's not? What if I'm ...
The minute the 'p' word enters my mind I know I'm going to be sick. I clasp my hand over my mouth and dash for the loo, making it only just in time. What if this is like, morning sickness? But at night?
And what will Johnny say? And what will we call it? Ohmigod, I am so totally freaking out...
But no, come on Cathy, clearly you're ok. No need to freak out. Your period will come tomorrow and you'll feel like such a total eejit for having such a panic attack. I mean, I'm always so careful with the pill and things like this don't happen to girls like me. Puh-lease!
Calming myself down, I return to the room, making sure not to make eye contact with any of the girls, hoping they just put my dramatic exit down to another much needed watermelon pee. Settling down, I pretend that I'm enthralled with the New York bachelorettes' latest antics, but my mind is somewhere else. Somewhere between laughing at itself and still feeling like, kind of nervous ... Surely it will be like, fine, yea? Of course it will. Like, obviously.
A wry smile crosses my face. Somehow, despite my unease, I can't help wondering that if the stork delivered Holly in a Fendi, would my baby be in a Louis Vuitton?!
I am in like, no rush to find out.