I Ain't Ever Satisfied

My adoration for John Mellencamp has been documented on this blog before. Ages ago. It has. Numbers 6 and 7.

Anyway. Its been fifteen years since JCM last toured Australia.

Fifteen sodding years.

And now he's coming back.

"Hurrah!", you would expect me to say.

But...

He's performing in Sydney on the weekend that my baby cousin Mark, who lives in Melbourne, decides he's going to get married and leave me the only single person of our generation on that side of the family. (Geeky second cousin Simon who still lives with his parents at the age of 36 doesn't count.)

You'd think Mellencamp and baby cousin Mark would have had the decency to check diaries before setting their dates.

Obviously not.

So on the one weekend my teenage hero Mellencamp will be in Sydney, I will not be playing air fiddle with Lisa Germano or belting out "oh yeah, life goes on, long after the thrill of livin is gone". No. I will be in Melbourne. Nay, Geelong. Defending my singleton status to the entire maternal side of my family (which is vast... my grandfather was one of six and they all had many children, who have many children, who have many children, who are all invited to this bloody wedding). It is apparently a source of family shame that I am still single and childless. Doesn't matter that its by choice, or that I'm the one with two degrees and the interesting career, who's travelled the world and lived in other countries and is the only one who can still fit into single digit clothing sizes (there are some serious heifers on that side of the clan). No. I'm a failure in the one area that apparently counts and that's all there is to it.

But you can bet geeky second cousin Simon won't be subjected to any of the same crap... apparently it is perfectly acceptable for a 36 year old man to have never stopped living in his parents' house, have never travelled anywhere and to have never, had a date in his life. I suspect the man is still a virgin. I wouldn't like to ask though - the image is not one that bears thinking about.

Anyway.

If I didn't love my baby cousin Mark so much I would tell them all to sod off and stay in Sydney and go see Mellencamp.

Bollocks.

Sodding, bloody, wanking, bollocks.

And I've just had a random thought. What if they seat me at the table with geeky second cousin Simon? Gaaaahhhhhh!! I'll be like Kristin Scott Thomas in Four Weddings And A Funeral... seated with the geeky vicar who's never had sex. I'll have nothing to talk to him about!

I'll have to get blind drunk. That's the only solution. And perhaps I'll take over the microphone and start singing Mellencamp's entire back catalogue. I could do that you know. I've got every album the man ever recorded. Half of them on vinyl. And I still have the tour t-shirts from the last two times he's toured. They're probably now classified as vintage. If the need to look hotttt wasn't a factor, I'd probably wear one to the wedding in protest.

Thank god I'm heading to the world fashion capital in September, where I can purchase an amazing outfit to wear (even if I do have to max out my credit card to do so). If I'm going to be the only single girl in the family, I'm going to make damn sure I put the married heifers to shame.