My 34th birthday

“Ooh, Stu, you haven’t written anything here for ages, Stu.” “Ooh, Stu, have you given up with the website, Stu?” “Ooh, call yourself a, um…man with…er…a website thingie, Stu…?”

Shut up.

It was my birthday three days ago, I’ve had a cold, a bad back and a small child at home being decidedly picky about her milk.

Of all of these, I think my birthday has taken longest to recover from. And to everyone who made it along to my Bloody Big Birthday Bazooka Bonanza on Saturday 14th (and there were almost 30 of you beautiful people – although less than 20 actually came clubbing after the pub – boo, lightweights!), thank you very much for coming and making me feel so very popular. 😀

I didn’t actually feel too dreadful on Sunday morning, but it’s taken me a few days to get back to normal, rather than the few hours it used to. It’s a terrible paradox of being 34 that now you can afford financially to drink far more and stay out far later than ever before, physically it’s becoming more and more expensive.

Thank goodness Millie went to her grandparents for the best part of 24 hours, I say – but what was the Lovely Melanie thinking, having not gotten to bed until 4am, getting back up at 8am to go to Hatfield to collect the girl from her grandparents??? It did no one any favours, this morning masochism, as she then had to have a sleep at her parents (who were managing quite admirably with Millie!) and thus ended up not getting back home till 6pm! Thanks again, though, to Millie’s grandparents for taking care of her for the night and most of next day. It was either them or Social Services…

Anyway, I have to say, I’m beginning to think having your birthday on January 15th is definitely the way forward. It used to be that I thought it was a really really bum deal – coming so close after Christmas it meant you had to wait eleven and a half months till you got any more presents! I mean, good grief – eleven and a half months! Even at 34 that’s a long time, as a child it’s practically a life sentence!

Ah, but the wisdom of age…

It’s a well-known fact that January’s a depressing month. No-one has any money, the weather’s rubbish, the bright lights of Christmas are disappearing in the rear-view mirror like a car-crash on a rainy motorway. So to have your birthday slap-bang in the middle of that period, especially if you deliberately make a big fuss about it the way I like to (“Bloody Big Birthday Bazooka Bonanza” anybody?), genuinely gives me, and hopefully a few other folks, something to cling onto.

The two weeks after New Year’s are kind of the build-up to it (where are we going? what are we doing? who’s coming? etc etc) whilst the two weeks after it that lead to the light at the end of the tunnel that is February are still lit by the warm rosy afterglow of the birthday itself (where did we go? what happened? who came? how drunk were you!! etc etc).

“What did I get for my birthday?” Oh, you don’t want to know.

No, really, you…

OK. Sigh. But do try and remember that I’m 34, eh?

I got a new office chair and a big cooking pot for making stews and casseroles and things in (both of which I asked for, and both of which I’m well chuffed with).

Oh, and a few CDs (Architecture In Helsinki and Baxter Dury), some books (not science fiction – all ready for when I get a break from the seemingly endless Clarke Award reading). And a small toy car with very big wheels(?).

Oh, and in Millie news (which is of course why most people are reading this), we’re trying solid food again. So far so good…

Plus, we’re due to be weighed again this week; and after the disappointing weight gain of a fortnight ago, when we put on just a few ounces to reach 10lbs 2ozs, hopes are high that we’ll be more than halfway to 11lbs.


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