When did getting older become a depressing hassle? Last year was a load of fun, from what I remember of it. And I figured having my first birthday abroad would be just as exciting, but in reality, it's looking pretty sad.
I'm expecting six people show up. No, I'm not kidding. You'd think that I have no friends. Well, at least I thought I had friends. But apparently the convenience of having your birthday fall on a Sat AND a bank holiday weekend only makes it inconvenient to everyone else.
So here comes my pity party. No presents to open. No mom around to buy me gifts and dad around to take me to my favorite steak house. No best friend to celebrate both of our birthdays with (Stef's birthday falls four days after mine). No ice cream cake. No beach (and come to think of it, no summer weather, either).
All said and done, 24 is the new 21, as my 21st birthday was pretty much the worst ever. So bring it on, bad birthday. I've learned to steer clear of beer and gin on bad birthdays, as they only seem to make it worse. I'm going to stick to champagne, wine, and I'm not bringing my wallet with me (other than ID for proof that I don't need to purchase anything myself).
And hopefully someone remembers to get me a cake. Because I can't imagine a sadder life than buying your own birthday cake.
So if you're bored Sat night, feel free to stop in at The Borderline near Tottenham Court Road, and look for a hot blonde wearing her birthday best. I'll probably be the drunkest girl at the party.
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