I know, why don't we continue the "Paula is a massive twat" theme with another story about why I am indeed a massive twat???
So one of my best friends is pregnant, right now, due at the beginning of July? And a mutual friend of ours decided to throw her a surprise baby shower. This was all arranged via a private events page on Facebook.
To be honest, I tuned out of the planning quite quickly as I'm 1) shit at organising stuff and 2) it seemed to be in capable hands anyway. I just had to be careful not to accidentally let things slip during our regular sojourns to the pub quiz, especially given the fact that my pregnant friend was quite obviously sober while I was . . . well, NOT sober. It actually got to a few days before and I sent one of the girls involved a message asking where the shower was happening, and what time, as I was so confused by all the messages that had kept popping up on the Facebook page about it. (I'm a rubbish friend, aren't I?) Then I hightailed it off to The White Company and bought a crinkly eared elephant for the unborn baby (we don't know the sex - I'm hoping it's a girl, but everyone seems to think it will be a boy. I'll love it anyway, obviously, but GIRL please!) and, later, a box of nice chocs for my friend herself.
So fast forward to last Sunday, the day of the shower itself. The night before, my pregnant friend had text me but I was getting drunk in front of Eurovision and therefore decided it was not a good idea to get involved in a conversation in case I said something stupid like "see you tomorrow". It would not do to ruin the surprise. So I replied to her first text but left the second one until the next day.
On Sunday, I realised I had absolutely no idea where I was going and posted something on twitter about it. I just said I was going to the southside and didn't know where I was going and one of my once-twitter, now real life friends posted back asking me where. So I told her, and she described how to get there and I said I was probably going to take a taxi anyway and, blah blah blah. I didn't think anything of it, headed off to the shower my mind full of what I was going to wear . . .
When I returned, I noticed I had a private message on facebook from one of the girls organising it. She was asking what I had said on twitter as my friend had saw the tweet and was asking questions.
I had forgotten my friend followed me on twitter.
She's hardly ever on it, to be fair - or hardly every comments anyway - but I had completely forgotten so of course had seen my tweets about how I was going to the southside and where I was going.
Damage control was needed. I drafted in Dawn to use as an alibi, saying on twitter I was going to meet her. Then I texted my friend a reply from the night before (finally) asking what she was up to and saying I was going on a pub crawl with Dawn and her friends in the southside and i'd text her later and find out where she was; maybe we could meet up?
I THINK she still got a surprise, but I feel thick that I nearly ruined it all. There was actually a point where I nearly didn't go to the shower because I felt like I was going to get crap hurled at me (deservedly) about nearly fucking it all up. But I DID go and I had a lovely time, and my friend did too.
And that's the important thing.
But I'm still a twat.