Yesterday was my 21st birthday and it was super. I was woken up at 6.30 by my mother singing "Happy Birthday", which, for those of you who haven't heard my mother singing before, is an interesting way to wake up. I then had presents to open at breakfast including pretty things like a treble clef brooch from my brother that is just gorgeous, its silver with marcasite in it – to die for – and a promise from my parents to pay for me to pass my driving test, partly because it's what I really, really wanted and partly because they're fed up of giving me lifts places when I'm at home.
Then I went back to bed because it was wasn't even 8am yet. Stupid time to be up on any day but especially my birthday.
But my aunt came round and woke me up (Grrr) but she gave me more pretty things – an incredible morano glass necklace and bracelet and a mulberry purse – so I forgave her. After that I made my brother drive me over to my Nan's to show her everything I'd got and thank her for the large amount of money she'd given me and then I had a lovely meal with my family. It was lovely. Even the call from Lorna, who was (seemingly) surrounded by drunk people, was lovely. Everything was, surprisingly, lovely.
Today it's all over, baking cakes for my shin-dig tomorrow, receiving texts from people who forgot (including my old best friend – bitch) and moving all my stuff into my new purse (no space for a condom – stupid stupid stupid) so I'm sat in my pyjamas watching the commonwealth games and blogging to my hearts content. Lovely.
Amazingly I don't feel any different today, even though I'm old and wrinkly now…