Another year

Well. I'm almost 35. w00t. I don't think I'm "suffering" from any sense of doom and gloom at being one year closer to death. Or maybe I am. I don't know, 35 isn't *that* old. At least I don't think of myself as old. Evidently I don't look it according to all the times I've been carded or faced stunned looks of disbelief when people find out I have an almost-15 year old daughter. That amuses me at least.

Anyway as I said I don't feel old. And I shouldnt either. Because 35 is not old. I'm not just saying that either. Or maybe I am. Maybe if I say it often enough it will become true. 35 isn't old. 35 isn't old. :)

Ok enough maudlin moping. I actually had a lovely weekend last week with Gary down and time spent with my new family. I discovered I still can't drink wine or coffee. My cousin is wonderfully talented with pretty much any instrument you throw at him. My other cousin is just a joy to be around. My aunt and uncle are fabulous. Swi is hilarious. "Happy Birthday" should be sung loudly, by many people and completely off-key every time. And Gary is becoming less like "Gary" and more like my Dad.

So yeah, a good time was had. I haven't got any special plans for this weekend, other than maybe doing some spring cleaning. I might take the kid out for dinner tomorrow night. But I do have a bit of a backlog of Netflix and Sopranos I have to catch up on.

There. Birthday blog complete :)