Eight days to go till I turn 30
PARTY NIGHT
It's 6.40 on Saturday evening and I'm nervous. Tonight is the night I celebrate my 30th birthday. Okay, I appreciate there's more than a week to go till I hit the big 3 0, but I didn't really have much choice.
You see, being born on Christmas Day has its pros and cons. On the one hand, no-one can possibly say that they forgot my birthday. On the other, everyone goes away and nothing is ever open on the day itself.
So tonight's the night. I've booked a section of a Brazilian bar in town. It is a wild place, with real-live South American beauties being swung around the dance floor like crash-test-dummies; live music and Brazilian nibbles. I've also encouraged everyone to have their bikini lines viciously waxed before arriving.
Yet I have no idea how many people will come, I've still not spoken to Aurora since I made my confession last Saturday night, and I have no guest-list. To make matters worse, it's the X Factor final on TV. Half the country appears to be transfixed by this programme. I am not one of them - I think it's populist pap lapped up by the incognoscenti. Alas, that view isn't shared by many of my friends, Aurora included. I've still not spoken to her since I last saw her - all I've had is a couple of e-mails and texts. I tried her earlier - no answer on the home phone, or on her mobile. Is she avoiding me? Or was she just in the shower? I guess I'll find out later.
PARTY NIGHT
It's 6.40 on Saturday evening and I'm nervous. Tonight is the night I celebrate my 30th birthday. Okay, I appreciate there's more than a week to go till I hit the big 3 0, but I didn't really have much choice.
You see, being born on Christmas Day has its pros and cons. On the one hand, no-one can possibly say that they forgot my birthday. On the other, everyone goes away and nothing is ever open on the day itself.
So tonight's the night. I've booked a section of a Brazilian bar in town. It is a wild place, with real-live South American beauties being swung around the dance floor like crash-test-dummies; live music and Brazilian nibbles. I've also encouraged everyone to have their bikini lines viciously waxed before arriving.
Yet I have no idea how many people will come, I've still not spoken to Aurora since I made my confession last Saturday night, and I have no guest-list. To make matters worse, it's the X Factor final on TV. Half the country appears to be transfixed by this programme. I am not one of them - I think it's populist pap lapped up by the incognoscenti. Alas, that view isn't shared by many of my friends, Aurora included. I've still not spoken to her since I last saw her - all I've had is a couple of e-mails and texts. I tried her earlier - no answer on the home phone, or on her mobile. Is she avoiding me? Or was she just in the shower? I guess I'll find out later.
posted by David Cohen at 6:41 pm
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