Tomorrow I am getting on a plane - as I haven't been on one in almost a month and I think my limbs are having withdrawls from not being cooped up in incredibly small seats while sitting next to a woman holding a child who is teething - to go to Melbourne to see the Foo Fighters on Tuesday night.
I am very excited about this, as you can well imagine. I am having a tiny freak-out as I'm going with Liam and I will be meeting his sister, her boyfriend and about 3 of his cousins. Yep, it's a family thing. And I am tagging along. Now, if I knew what it meant that I was going with them, I would feel ever so better about the whole thing. Am I going as a fantastic friend of Liams? Which I am, of course. Or am I going as a potential girlfriend and Liam wants to get his family's opinion of me before making out with me??
But the freak-out comes and goes, and I am well experienced in my freak-outs not be be... well, freaked-out about it. But! And there is always a but in any good dilemma...
Liam sent me an email today saying he's going to talk to his mother and find out when I can go to his parents house for dinner one night. The. Parents. House.
I don't care who you are, that my friends is bigger than meeting the sister. The. Parents. In my books you don't introduce people of the opposite sex to your parents unless.... well, I don't kow, but I'm sure there's a suitable 'unless' there that you all know what I'm talking about.
But I shall do my darndest not to freak-out any more than I already have. And I shall keep you all informed on how the time in Melbourne goes. Unless the 4 fours I'm there goes incredibly, fantastically well, and then you won't hear a thing about it. Yes, I am evil that way.