You know how fancy dress parties are fun? The key to the fun, apparently, is the party bit. Not the fancy dress bit.
I just tried on my outfit - red sticky-up-round-the-neck-thing (ruffle?), heart-covered strippogram dress, long black cardigan (mine), long black leggings (mine), long black underskirt (mine) and crown (not mine) - and had to sit down on my bed for a few seconds because I was hyperventilating with fear. Pure, unadulterated fear: the kind I used to get when I was very small and I saw a large dog.
To enjoy fancy dress (it suddenly became blindingly clear), it has to be dark, you have to be drunk, and you have to be with a large group of friends who also look like idiots. You should not be on your own, sober and in broad daylight in front of a group of commuters; some of which, quite possibly, you went to school with. It should not be before breakfast. And you should not be broadcasting this across the county.
I'm not even sure Queen of Hearts works, actually.
"Isn't it going to confuse people?" the gentleman at Hertbeat FM said when I rang to update them. "You know, seeing as there's also a Heart FM, and that's spelt with an a?"
I stared at my phone, and then I stared at the (say it: say it) maribou trimmed skirt on the back seat of the car.
Bugger, I thought.
"No," I said as bravely as I could. "I'll have logos. And I'll explain."
"Mmm," he said, and then I rung off just before I started sobbing into the steering wheel.
You know what? I'm going to do it. I'm going to take one of the deepest breaths I've ever taken and do it. Every time I think I've confronted all of my fears, another one always pops its little head up to try me. National telly? Done. Travelling the world on my own? Done. Asking a boy out and being told to sod off? Done. Dressing up like a total dickhead in public? Not done. And - if you asked me which of the above was the scariest - this is it. By far. I'd rather land on my own in a far-flung city at 2am (done) and get mugged within ten minutes (done), and then have to sleep under a pier (done), before ringing my mum and dad in tears (done done done done) than do this.
Which means, I think, that it has considerable value. Because if I do this, I can do anything.
PS: Dad keeps eating all my jam tarts. If I don't do it tomorrow, I won't have anything to do it with.
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