The Seven Ages of (Wo)man

I have had my first real instance of thinking, 'I am properly old' - I woke up on Saturday morning and totally forgot it was my birthday. You know when old people say, 'Oh, I missed my birthday' and you think, 'How could you miss that?' Well, I lost track of the days, and even though I was getting together with my family, specifically because it was my birthday (very kindly organised by my aunt), I didn't go to sleep on Friday night thinking, 'Ooh, presents and cards tomorrow!' and I woke up and had to remind myself it was my birthday. Very different from last year, when I was planning the damn thing six months in advance. I blame the fact that I was caught between being excited about giving my dad his belated 70th b'day present (a Glen Baxter print that my sister had tracked down, through actually emailing him - always cool) and being excited about going to my old school friend Shelly's wedding on the Sunday, which was going to be in a cocktail bar in South Kensington, aka a superglam drinkfest of unparalleled proportions.

I managed to prove how properly old I am by only drinking two cocktails (these were free from 4.30pm till 11.00pm. Free, I tell you!) because I was worried about getting embarrassingly drunk and falling over, then having The Fear the next morning whilst hungover. I had a bloody brilliant time. Although if last year is anything to go by, when I didn't drink on my birthday, and had a bloody brilliant time, I will get totally shit-faced this weekend and will spend all of Sunday catching up on Strictly Come Dancing and The X-Factor on iPlayer and thinking, 'Maybe I should just give up drinking'. I think I have what the experts refer to as 'a balanced lifestyle'.