Sunday, September 07, 2008

Happy birthday to me

You know you're getting old when... you really, really don't feel like doing anything in particular. Is that pathetic, or just a fact of life? Alright, alright... I know the answer already. I'm happy with being pathetic. No really, I am.


Mills woke me up at 20-past-sparrow's fart (I refused to open my eyes) by singing happy birthday to me in Afrikaans, Dutch and English. I succeeded in ignoring him and he let me go back to sleep until a normal hour. I then got treated to a second redition of all three verses.


I decided to get to the shops, first thing in the morning to take the computer to be seen to (yes, I hate crowds so much that I would rather run errands before opening presents on my birthday, just to avoid the masses from 11.30 onwards). The computer needed to be fixed so that I could use the photoshop that I had gotten for my birthday the week before, and also be able to use the printer (which I knew I was getting from Mills). Yes, an electric appliance. But not just any printer. A photo/copier/scanner/printer.

Anyway... so for three hours on the morning of my 27th birthday, we stood in a computer shop trying to explain that we did not know why our CD-Rom was no longer working. It. Just. Stopped. Working. These things happen in my house.

Eventually, we were able to retrieve the computer in full working condition, but not before I managed to drop kick my phone across a street and go over on my ankle, splaying my shopping across a tram stop (two separate incidents). Let's just say the day didn't start off spectacularly.

Mills made up for the late start by filling the house with 27 balloons, and producing a fluffy pink tiara complete with BIRTHDAY GIRL in pink lettering. I loved it. This is how a birthday should be. I unwrapped my prezzies (which mostly consisted of printer accessories) and we followed up with an attempt at home-made sushi. Interactive, but messy. We ended up eating all the ingredients separately.

The day culminated in rented movies, home-made fudge* and popcorn. Of course, during the making of the popcorn, I managed to set off the firealarm, but besides that it was a very quiet night in. Sometimes being boring is just so.... nice.

* Future reference: do not attempt to catch liquid hot fudge with bare fingers. Hot fudge burns like fuck and does not let go. Noted.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

your birthday was celebrated in true family fashion with the 'sisters' little big and big littele as ell as attachments, your big little brother and girlsfriend and of course your folks serenading the neighbourhood with our various renditions of "happy birthday". Followed by teh obligatory cutting of the cake and screaming. The police were very understanding although a little puzled at the explanation of the noise. We miss you lots and lots and know you will celebrate again on Wednesday in true koekie fashion. Hugs across the miles.
Wicked witch of the north

Don't believe a word I write said...

Heppy heppy!! Sounds like you had a mah-vellous one. Well done for making it to 27 with only minor burns.

Lopz said...

You're not pathetic, just old - er!!! I turned 28 this year and also couldn't be arsed. I think it happens when you hit 25 and you realise your youth is officially over. Being on the wrong side of 25 means young people see you as over the hill. It's such an ego boost.

kop said...

Age is a state of mind ladies! I still feel and act like a juvenile!

Wait, does that make me the wierd old guy at clubs and bars?