Happy Birthday To Me!

Last Saturday was my Birthday.  The day was quite uneventful really, as birthdays go.  My dad came around in the morning with the most beautiful orchid display (I love orchids and am actually quite adept at growing them … I know, I know, my talents never fail to amaze!).  The rest of the morning was spent running around, doing the normal, less than dazzling stuff that needs to be done on a Saturday … dry cleaning, food shopping (if you can call buying a few ready meals from M&S, food shopping … I’ll have to tell you about my eating habits too at some point).  The afternoon, well I just slobbed around at home.  Very restful.

Saturday afternoon/evening, I was supposed to be going out with some friends to Liverpool, but my lovely friend, Vivien couldn’t make it (she had to work) and as I wasn’t precious about going to Liverpool and would prefer to stay local and go out later if I could have Viv there, that’s what we did.

I’ve already mentioned about ‘going local’ in earlier blogs, so I won’t cover that ground again, but we decided to have a little drink in the nice bar (you know, the one with the Italian maitre de who made a fuss last time we went in … not to be confused with the little Hilter – or should I say Mussolini - guy from my night out with Jen), then go for a Chinese – my favourite.  On the way in the taxi to the bar, I said to the girls that we should go to a bar nearer the restaurant, as I was wearing giant heels (no surprise there then) and I’m always averse to walking anywhere anyway … why walk when I have a perfectly lovely car/there are taxis?  Viv stated with some determination, “NO! Let’s go to Rubino’s!”.  If I’m quite honest, she shut me up quick sticks.  We usually go with a consensus vote, so Viv directness shocked the hell out of me.

When we alighted from the taxi (that’s posh for ‘got out’) and walked in to the bar, I knew why Viv was so determined that we do there … she’d arranged to have a table reserved and I was greeted with a balloon and a bottle of Champagne! Yipppeeeeeee!  How happy was I?  Well, I’ll tell you … VERY happy.  So we had a little drinky which was peppered with attention from the Maitre De (not Mussolini) coming over at regular intervals to kiss my hand.  Oh, you’ve gotta laugh.

Once we’d finished the champers we strolled at a leisurely pace (nothing to do with the heels, obviously!) over to the restaurant where we continued to drink even more champers with a completely gorgeous Cantonese meal.  Yum, Yum, Yum.  The rest of the evening passed quite uneventfully … apart from the fact that we were all drunk as skunks!

My Sunday hangover was something to behold!  One of my school friends, Angela, has coined those types of Sundays as ‘Betty Ford Sundays’.  I’ve adopted that term too.  Seems to work very well!  I did, however, have to drive into Manchester to the Trafford Centre to order an eyebrow cake that I’d ordered from Illasmasqua.  Why I didn’t leave it? I’ll never know, but I really wasn’t feeling too bad by lunchtime and I’ll never pass up a shopping opp.

Well, I think that kind of covers off the weekend.  This week there’s nothing … NOTHING notable to report … well, there is a bit (work stuff really), but I can’t put that in the public domain.  Sorry.  What I will say is that it hasn’t been the best week … but its FRIDAY and the weekend starts here!

Oh heck, I knew there was something else I wanted to tell you about.  Remember the guy from my internet dating fiasco … the one who lived in Preston that I spoke to, who texted a few times and then disappeared?  Well he got in touch on Monday.  Haven’t spoken to him yet … I’ve been busy!  But you never know.  I’ll keep you informed … Oh, and yes, he did have an acceptable excuse for his disappearance and no, it didn’t involve prison or drugs!  So from where I’m standing, he sounds good to me!

Have a fantastic weekend, lovely ones.

Keep being fabulous.

Jx