Ground, Swallow Me Up. ASAP.

I'm no stranger to an awkward situation, which is largely my fault. I have an uncanny knack of making even the most simple conversations problematic - a problem which is exemplified if I have to queue before said social interaction takes place.

Take a recent trip to the cinema, for example. When asked if I'd prefer cheese or salsa with my nachos, I replied;

"Erm...God. Erm...well cheese. No salsa. Erm wow. Decision. Salsa. Go with salsa. NO, CHEESE!"

I had salsa, in the end, and I could sense the girl behind the counter thought I was a complete twonk. Little did she know, there was more to come! Yes, the idiot only went and asked me if I wanted a receipt. You'd think, judging by my less than skilful handling of the above conversation, that she'd avoid any more questions that required a decision being made. But she didn't - she went there anyway - and so we were both stuck in an infuriating loop while I to'd and fro'd between having a receipt or leaving without one. I took the receipt, and threw it in the bin outside.

Suffice it to say, I now go to a different cinema; although this hasn't solved my problem. Wherever I may go, whatever decision I may be expected to make, I can make it awkward and unecessarily difficult. As I was leaving a music festival two years ago with N and my brother, a steward asked if we were on our way home.

N said yes. Ever honest and polite.

My brother said no. Deceit is his problem, I think.

I stopped dead in my tracks, like a rabbit caught in headlights and stared back like she'd asked me to solve a complex riddle.

But anyway, this post should be about awkward situations I've found myself in - of which there are many. There's one I've blogged about before. I'd had too much to drink, and fallen over on the dance floor of a club. A bouncer came over and asked me to step outside (in other words: call a cab, you're going home). On the way off the dance floor, however, I grabbed his hand, and held it tight while we weaved through the crowd. I didn't realise I was doing this, until he turned around and told me I didn't really have to hold his hand. I longed for the ground to swallow me up. It didn't. He did, however, say, "Well there's obviously no harm in you - have a good night" and let me stay. So it's not all bad.

For my finale, I'll stick to my most awkward and embarrassing one. Please don't read in the presence of children or before 9pm.

Last Boxing Day (the day after Christmas) I stayed at my aunt's house and slept on my cousin's floor. The next morning, with a head heavy with hangover, I woke to the sound of my cousin complaining about the aftermath of her drinking adventures the night before. All of a sudden, my stomach lurched. I was going to be sick. I knew it. I could feel it. I was hot and uncomfortable and on the verge of vomiting all over her bedroom, so I jumped up and went to run for the door. If only I'd been in less of a rush. You see, I'd taken my jeans off and well...erm...the fly of my boxers was open and I basically flashed my cousin. We're not that close for something like this to happen and not be mentioned. I was humiliated, but nonetheless ran to the toilet to be sick anyway.

This is the most awkward moment I can recall at the moment. I mean how do you have breakfast with your cousin and extended family after accidentally baring all? I will not hear the end of this. Not for the rest of my life.

I'm not a pervert, honest (and if that sign-off isn't awkard, I don't know what is). Lauren, take the limelight away from me - I'm ashamed.