I've never been alone for my birthday before. There have either been parents, boyfriends, friends, colleagues or Mr FF to spend the time with and give a vague feeling (well, not so vague on lots of occasions - I've always celebrated with gusto - don't you just love that word?) that a special day was being recognised.
I'm meeting my m-i-l for coffee this morning, but that is the extent of anything I will be doing. She invited me round for a meal but, to be honest, now I am going to Wednesday Weight Watchers I don't like to eat too much the night before.
This introspective birthday state of mind makes me think of a job I once had (in the sales office of a wine company in Camden) when nobody was free in the evening to come to the pub with me to have a birthday drink. I went home and felt very sorry for myself. I was about 22, outgoing and okay to look at (photo* below of how I looked around this time); in fact my desk faced a street along which quite a few people passed, most of them men because we were next door to a garage that repaired luxury cars. It got to be quite entertaining peeking out at people and on a few occasions some of the owners of these cars came into reception and asked to have a few words with the curly headed girl they could see as they went by? I only actually went out with one of these chancers though - I called him Conrad the Cadillac (as that was his name and his car) and it was a short-lived thing. the moral of this tale being - never go out with someone who has admired you through a window**.
*curious to see a few other photos? - look here, but you might have seen them before
**unless it is a window in a certain area of Amsterdam and they are your key to a new life
Edited to add the plant that just got delivered, sent by a certain someone