No more chips for me

James Marston

WEDDINGS - it's that time of year.

Just when I thought no more of my friends could possibly get married, I get asked to one next year by a couple from the west of the county who got engaged in the Peak District during a romantic champagne mini-break last week.

Mark and Liz are deliriously happy and have already asked me if I'll grace the event with my presence.

And with three others coming up in the next eight weeks, I'm having to slim down to an elephant to fit into my posh clothes.

No more chips for me for a while. Shame, I like chips.

IT'S a universal truth - everyone gets embarrassed.

We all wish that sometimes we'd have the power to curl up and hide.

We've all said the wrong thing, made the wrong joke, laughed at the wrong place and made ourselves cringe with embarrassment.

No one is above one of those awful moments when you feel yourself flushing red, your heart starting to beat a little quicker and you know you've made a fool of yourself.

It even happens to celebrities.

I doubt Charlotte Church will relish showing her grandchildren some of the more lurid headlines about her in her dotage.

I can't imagine Big Brother star Jade Goody is delighted she showed off her ample bosom to the rest of us - though perhaps it was the smartest career move ever.

I bet Prince Charles regrets some of those silly hats. And I'm certain Judy Finnigan isn't exactly proud of that memorable moment her top came undone in front of the viewing millions.

Of course, embarrassing moments for those in public life are meat and drink to us hacks of the fourth estate.

We love nothing better than a story about egg on so-and-so's face. And when it happens to a politician or someone famous - especially someone who shouldn't be embarrassed - then that's all to the good.

But I'm afraid, dear readers, that as I sit here in my Felixstowe salon with sea views (distant) I have a confession - even I have had my fair share of embarrassing moments. For example...

I once forgot the words, and repeated the same line four times, to a song I was performing while wearing a dinner jacket in front of 200 people in a south London village hall.

I don't like to dwell on the wedding in Harrogate where I became a little over-refreshed and had to be taken home after people started to avoid me.

I rarely talk about the time I asked Dougie from the boyband McFly what it was like to tour with four other lads and how did they all get on? Only to be told there were three.

And do you know this week I have had a further embarrassing episode.

It may sound trivial to you but for me - an over-sensitive, needy, demanding but entertaining media type - it was not pleasant. You see, I was late for work.

For some reason I failed to wake up in time to get to work by the allotted hour.

I woke up and in my small bedroom with sea views (non-existent) there was an eerie silence, the light was strange and I knew something was amiss.

As I turned to my bedside clock the awful realisation dawned on me that it was 8am - the time I am meant to arrive fresh-faced - but it wasn't Saturday and I was still in my pit.

My body - which nowadays isn't quite as springy as it should be - suffered an unwelcome adrenalin shot.

My bedroom turned blue with expletives. I rushed around, couldn't find my keys - house or car - and effectively went into a momentary panic.

But do you know, dear readers, the worst of it all was that when I finally arrived at my desk - typically every traffic light was red the one time I needed a speedy journey into the centre of Ipswich - no one really seemed to care.

Unlike Charlotte, Judy and Charles I didn't even cause a stir - what a comedown.

THANK goodness Lent's coming to an end.

A time of year when I feel particularly guilty for not stopping eating chocolate, smoking or increasing my carbon footprint.

My plain-speaking photographer friend Lucy, who gives up chocolate, seems to enjoy the self-discipline - of course that's one characteristic I lack.

Now that the 40 days and 40 nights are nearly over I can look forward to giving up telling people I haven't given anything up at all.

THE Felixstowe crane drama is turning into a

tourist attraction - well I've been down to look.

Along with the planned sea defences - they're putting big rocks in various places - Felixstowe is suddenly a hot spot of points of interest.

My dad, who enjoys things like that, even went to have a look at the cranes in the dark the other evening. Have you taken a peek?

CONSTANTLY healthy since my move to Felixstowe last year - attributed to the sea air - I have this week felt somewhat under the weather. It rather messed up my weekend really.

Has anyone else found themselves with a late spring illness which includes sore throat,

shivering, headaches,

sneezing and pounding head? Or am I unique once again?