…it never got weird enough for me…
You know you're jealous of my birthday cake. At first I was determined to jiffy bag it, freeze it and keep it forever....but that lasted all of 2 seconds and now it's gone :o(
See you in heaven, Mr. Cake.
My birthday was pretty neat considering that it was nothing like I imagined it would be. I didn't get shit-faced or arrested, but I did get presented with 3 rather lovely balloons.
I woke up with some kind of phantom-hangover (Which I've still got and now naturally presume I'm going to die from) but temporarily forgot about it when Gareth gave me absinthe. We were so drunk by the time we actually got to the cinemas that we not only manged to miss the film but piss everyone off, buy even more alcohol, lose £5, and not mind the fact that Anthony-the-psycho-ex had invited himself along in the process.
Playing Dance Dance Revolution at the acrade then ensued for a couple of hours, as did getting a rather nice meal some place where I got free balloons and a song. We finally got round to seeing Marie Antoinette at about 8 o'clock, where Gareth and me danced to the soundtrack and got many dark looks from tyne :o)
I'm still meant to be going out again to celebrate properly, but in all honesty I couldn't think of a better way to do it than I already did on thursday. So thank you!
I think Peter has just driven 5 miles from his work place to my house, tricked me into giving him all my cigarettes (whilst in my pajamas might I add!) and then sped off home...
Since when did I get so nice?
And when did I stop making sense? Is it only me who cant understand a word I've just written? I think I need to go to bed for a couple of days...