Tuesday, 23 June 2009

It's my party and I'll eat cake if I want to

So I am now officially 29 and one week old. So far so good.

My birthday last Tuesday was pretty fabulous. The morning was spent in a state of relative productivity, finishing a couple of articles for a magazine I used to write for at home, and then the afternoon spent imbibing champagne on the rooftop terrace at chi chi Boundary in Shoreditch with Cleo. And then an amazing dinner that night with LB and assorted LO (Lovely Others). Sigh.

I don't know if it was the general air of birthday bonhomie or the fact that I seem to have found myself in the company of some truly special people I can now call good friends (several of them initially of the Free Gift With Purchase variety courtesy of LB but now hopefully Friends Proper) but there was something just extraordinarily special about my birthday this year. I think it's a culmination of things, but I feel like life here in London is getting easier and saner and more enjoyable as the days inevitably turn into months. It's a satisfying feeling.

But back to the birthday. So LB utterly outdid himself. Despite informing me initially that my gifts (plural) had come from a pound store on Uxbridge Rd so not to get too excited, he then dazzled me not only with a seriously fabulous piece of jewellery that I had seen a month ago (and had I kid you not been dreaming about since) but also by making me cupcakes. Yes, cupcakes. Cupcakes I have teased him about and nagged him to make me for, oh, months, but to no avail.

I've been told not to get used to the baking but I think LB is under-estimating the power of the puppy dog face....

It was such a special night and so very humbling to see (and consequently consume....) such a beautiful gesture.

Sadly Saturday wasn't quite as well-behaved. Drinks with school friends and assorted LO's got a little messy after several rounds of Sambuca shots (Never. Ever. Again) so Sunday was spent clutching my head and staggering blindly and delicately in the direction of food and paracetamol. It turned out to be a proper traditional English food kind of day - a late breakfast at a greasy spoon cafe on Bethnal Green Rd, just around the corner from one of Banksy's more famous works....

...before a late night dinner of surprisingly delicious Indian take-away. I'm refusing to think about the calories....

Even today I'm still residually a bit tired. I think I need another weekend like the one before last. A weekend of faffing and slothing and an excursion to Richmond, where LB took me for a stroll along the Thames.

The sky wasn't particularly blue but it was hot in the sun and so lovely to again explore a different part of London. And because it was a Sunday afternoon the riverside was busy with people riding bicyles, eating ice-creams, having picnics, drinking Pimms......

It's the life really.

Am not sure what this coming weekend will entail - apart from an early morning trip to Paddington on Saturday to greet the parentals! I don't care how old a girl gets, she can never be too old to get excited about seeing her Mumma.

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