It's the aftermath of my birthday. And I feel bloated. Clearly I overdid it on the booze front (fizz, sauvingnon blanc, crianza, lychee martini's...), the pizza front (have vague recollections of feeling like I might vomit but continuing to stuff great slabs of cheesy heaven into my gob regardless) and the cake front (loads of orange flavoured buttercream icing which seemed like such a good idea at the time).
I do feel spoiled though. It was like my own personal Christmas as i got spoiled beyond belief with a lovely new glam handbag, a sexy pencil skirt, a leopard print bikini, a beautiful necklace, some wicked tights, leather leggings...etc. I should point out however that all these super sexy cool gifts were from my mum and sisters (love you guys), whereas the males in my life were a touch more practical in their gift giving inspiration: a 'fit bit' watch (previously mentioned), a top of the range bicycle light(!), a notebook, a pen, a Murakami tome, a bicycle rack and bag (yep, definitely a distinct theme emerging here)....
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| one 'glam' gift... |
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| ...followed by one a touch less so (my new top-of-the-range bicycle light) |
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| A 'Dumpie Special' |
Do I care? Heck no. Mainly because I am the proud owner of a newly acquired powder pink folding Brompton bicycle, which I have discovered, is great fun to whizz up and down the streets on (even moreso after a few glasses of vino). Though it is to my great embarrassment that I have yet to memorise the intricacies involved in folding and unfolding the bloody thing without the aid of either an eye-rolling husband or a trio of friendly male strangers outside a pizza restaurant channeling youtube....
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| A late night birthday 'nightcap' with my favourite pet :) |
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| My gorgeous mum here for my first birthday in YEARS...(who spoiled me rotten!) |
But I digress. It was a wickedly fun birthday and as my head hit the pillow on the wrong side of 2am it dawned on me that the husband had neither made good on his promise to give me a birthday massage (it's the only time of year that he doesn't pull the old hand scratching, disinterested, rub-in-the-same-place 'massage' that feels so horrible that I make him stop and tell him not to bother)
nor did I get my special wish of a nice (solo!) bubble bath, glass of wine and uninterrupted Grazia reading.
Oh well, only 364 days to wait....
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| Opening the last card...from my 'boys'...wondering what it's going to say inside.... |
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| ....apparently nothing! They only bloody forgot to sign the bloody thing :) |
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| A cheesy, lo-light old skool 'Kodak Moment'... |
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...and another one. just cuz :)
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