Monday, 17 June 2013

celebrations / commiserations

I had a very nice birthday, once I'd thrown the hangover, thanks.  Not a day over 18, I swear.  I yell-whispered "ITS MAH BIRFDAY" and "WHERE'S MAH PHONE" at P for about 10 minutes when I arrived home at 2am on the morning of the big day, reeking of cheap bubbles and some vile energy drink/vodka combo.  As it turns out, you can forgive a birthday girl quite a bit but some things are always, always annoying. 

(I told him he should just be grateful I didn't kick on with the others.  He told me that a decision to kick on is usually made by 10pm and doesn't get remade at 2am.  He still made me a bday cuppa tea in the morning, so I was only in the dogbox briefly (whew).)

As part of my nice day, I hung out with my sister.  We were flipping channels from my couch as we lazed following a tasty brunch.  Then: golden moment! We discovered 'Making the Team: Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders'.  Now, you might think that K and I don't have a great deal in common.  Sometimes that's true - I love tomatoes, she loves tomato sauce.  She's an excellent sportsman, I have no coordination whatsoever.  Etc.   But when it comes to trash television, we have a shared passion for excellence.  That show is beyond brilliant and I want to join the kick line (but I'm worried I'm too 'soft' and have a little too much 'jiggle' - the euphemisms were offensive yet somehow outstanding).  How have I not known about it before?

Had a quiet evening with friends, watching the rugby and chatting.  Just lovely, really.  Oh, and I am devouring my new copy of Wolf Hall, superb (why yes, I am about four years late to the Hilary Mantel party, thanks for noticing my lack of cultural relevance.  I am about to go and discover Hemingway or something, then present it to you like it's a revelation, OK?).

Birthdays are alright with me. 

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