23
This weekend was my Birthday Bonanza. Friday night mainly consisted of me fitting myself and my oversized, over-rowdy, and probably close to size 14 breasts into a tiny size 10 dress. Fun for the whole family. Me and the girls went out to Bury, had quite a few £1 bottles in Sol Viva, had a bit of a dance, and got ourselves a few new Facebook friend requests from some random 18 year old Bury Boys too. Good times… No pulling though… Bad times.
I was on a high the next morning, I was 23, and I didn’t feel rough at all.
I hadn’t thought about ‘him’ too much. The occasional holding of my breath when checking emails, but nothing time consuming. The flowers arrived that morning; a massive and expensive looking bouquet of lilies. The message read “Have a good day fancy pants” – what he always used to call me. It had only been a few weeks since the Break Up, a massive part of me really hoped that he would have moved on and stopped thinking about me already. This ‘gesture’ was just a massive kick in the proverbial balls to make me realise how easy it had been for me to move along and forget him, and how hard it must be for him. I had a little cry in the garden while violently smoking a Marlboro Light and then it was forgotten… On with the day.
Went into Manchester for a Primark shop, and then to the Pacific for lunch with my Mum, Pippa (Mum’s best friend, and also my Godmother) and the Wife. Pulling my phone out of my bag I find 3 missed calls from an unknown number and a voicemail. It was Matt. He said he’d used his last 3 euros to call me and that he was gutted I hadn’t answered. He wished me a Happy Birthday and said he missed me. Surprisingly to the point and concise actually… Whenever I leave a voicemail, I tend to repeat words unnecessarily or forget my train of though half way through a sentence and just babble inanely… It was really sweet of him to do that.
Saturday night was the night to unveil the Winehouse! The wig was pure genius, and I got myself Winehouse tattoos to plaster up and down my arms too. One of which was actually very nice, and I wouldn’t mind having for real… Enough of that talk though, my mother would literally throw me out of the house. There was a few of us out, from a Warrior Princess to Dog the Bounty Hunter; quite an eclectic mix of banterful costumes. Fancy dress was truly a shout and a half, and I had a brilliant Birthday weekend.
Xx
