My Birthday is coming up. Hooray the big 30.
I've decided what I'm going to do about it.
I have invited everyone to a cool little restaurant on the Northcote rd in Clapham. Cheap and cheerful and the pizza is great so all the wheat eaters can get on down!
I will be having the usual, melenzane with rocket salad and pesto and a sh*t load of wine.
Sunday lunch, so that everyone can get mashed if they want and still wake up on Monday morning for work without feeling too rough.

So that done and I don't have to wash up afterwards or even lift a dessicated finger.
(they are getting dry because the season is changing as rapidly as an angst ridden teenagers moods.)

I'm not feeling weird about turning 30. Maybe the night before I'll have a panic attack and get with the program, but for now I actually feel pretty good and settled in my skin.
I'm waiting for Adrian to get here, and we are going out for dinner.
Such a honey.

If anyone reading this feels left out because they didn't get a group mail or txt about the birthday bash, chill and call me because I probably just forgot you.
If you are still friends with me at this point in the game, you must know what I'm like by now!!!