One foot in the grave

I have already alluded to the fact that very soon, in ooooh, say, 15 days time (which makes it FEBRUARY 13TH to all those of you who wish to lavish me with gifts *ahem*) I will be turning the very sexy age of 27.

Now some of those among you, seem to think my age is a constant source of aumsement, and that teasing me about it, is well, teasing...

WRONGTOWN!

I am actually looking forward to being 27 (the odd numbers are always more fun). No really - I am! You young whipper-snappers will soon learn..

Anyway, you can't help but take stock a little bit around your birthday, but I've actually, for once, found myself in a pretty happy place just now. Quite astonishingly. I have a good idea of who I am and where I'm going, and even if the vague details aren't all there, I know its all good. So what if I still act like a 16 year old at times...!

"why should I know better by now, when I'm old enough not to?"

But you know what the one thing that does really bite about turning 27? I was soooo totally going to apply to go on the next "Shipwrecked", and the bastards have only gone and set the age limit for contestants at 25.

Bugger.