It’s my birthday on Friday. I keep saying it will be the first birthday that I’ll spend the day on my own, but that can’t be true because I always booked my birthday off work when I was full time working. So logic tells me that other people would have been working so therefore I must have spent the day on my own. No worries anyway, because I can do what I like. I think I’ll take myself shopping, get some money out of my savings (but will try my hardest to not leave my goods in Tesco again for some scum to steal. Hell, why would I even go to Tesco on my birthday?!) and get myself something pretty. I’ll also take myself for a coffee and a cake, specifically at Costa because I’ll get double points if I visit again before the end of May. Savvy.
In the evening I am being wined and dined by my beloved, made all the better that he will have been away for nearly three days prior to this. God help me, if this ash cloud means he can’t fly back in time for my birthday, there will be one very grumpy immature acting 31 year old on this planet.
Turning 31 isn’t a big deal. True, entering your thirties is a strange time, but I believe a lot of that is heightened by the media and those around you also turning 30 AND definately those that think you should be doing certain things by a certain time. I’ve met a few new people in the last couple of years that have different lives to me, so you can’t help but compare yourself. But, I am me and they are them and it wouldn’t work if we swapped lives.
Age sure is just a number. I won’t let that number change me. It hadn’t made any difference yet. If anything I’m living younger. Let’s toast to that!
What ties me here? Sometimes I think about this. Sometimes I don’t need to think about it, I just know it or feel it.
I hope I snap out of this by the time the 6th June comes along. That’s the definitive date. Then new stuff pops up. So much is still unknown, stuff that is just around the corner, but beyond that too. Just can’t wait for this academic year to be over. That’s the starting point.
…that really, REALLY fucks me off, is when my boyfriend, who works late on Saturday to sort out the paper and all it’s stupid adverts, is called today when he is on leave. Let’s not forget the fact he worked yesterday as he always does each and every Monday for no pay despite it being his day off, and let’s also remember he was working until the minute before I took him to the train station today.
Have an great time James, you deserve it more than anything. Enjoy xxx
“Do stuff. Be clenched, curious. Not waiting for inspiration’s shove or society’s kiss on your forehead. Pay attention. It’s all about paying attention. Attention is vitality. It connects you with others. It makes you eager. Stay eager.”
— Susan Sontag
Getting into trouble
I never had a detention at school, ever, as I was a good girl. I do remember something that happened when I was 7 that taught me never to do anything that will get someone else into trouble. I was on the toilet before a lesson and thought it would be funny if I wrote on a bit of tracing paper toilet paper, “Angus was in the girls toilets” and stick it in a small hole in the door. I went off to my lesson and during it, a girl came in with said piece of tissue. Angus was accused of being in the girls loos. He denied it. I kept quiet, feeling sick. I felt so bad about it I told my mum in the car and she nearly took me back to school to explain. I’ll never forget how guilty I felt. Angus was also a good boy. The only thing is, I’m a bit confused as to why everyone was so shocked that a 7 year old boy, 23 years ago, was in the girls toilets.
Making technical things
I was in a team that was selected to go to a competition held in the Queensway Hall in Dunstable. We had to make a go cart I think. We had no idea what we were doing. Needless to say we didn’t win but it’s something for the memory banks.
Filing and farting
Me and Annika were asked by Mr. Heather to do some of his filing. Stuff like letters from parents, other people etc. He asked us to do it in our free time at lunchtime. It was basically a time to mess around in the tiniest office ever. We amused ourselves by farting in the confined space. On the last day of term ever, Mr. Heather gave us £1 each.
Other memories that came to mind…(I know it’s not in the spirit of three, but hey ho…)
Vomiting satsuma all over the floor
Skirt elastic going whilst playing hopscotch and being given trousers to wear
Fainting. Twice.
Christopher Russell wiping a bogey in my hair
Mrs. Toby. From her I learnt that time is an abstract concept, and that if you put wet bread under a jar and leave it, it will go mouldy
Chains of tiggles during story time
Winning the 100m at sports day, feeling unwell and then the class cheering me when I came back
Running for the school in cross country (we trained on Warden Hills!!)
Playing Jane from Neighbours in a school play
Always giving Mrs. Haque a kiss goodbye at the end of the day
Crying after being told off for going over the teacher’s writing in my book, with a pencil
Father Connelly coming over to the school every week to tell you he didn’t see you at mass and ask you why.
