Ever since i hit 30, birthdays have been a continual source of misery for me. I dont know what it was about 30 but something seemed to go off in my head and i just instinctively knew that never again would i enjoy that particular anniversary.
That was ten years ago now, so those of you with a B or above in O' Level maths will have no trouble working out what particular birthday i've just had to endure. Needless to say it was hideous.
Now please don't think for a minute that i'm some kind of miserable, party-pooping, kill joy who cant stand the sight of people enjoying themselves. Nothing could be further from the truth, and in fact Christmas celebrations are possibly the highlight of my year so it's not annually organised events i'm against. Equally, i don't mind being the centre of attention from time to time and have been known to sing a song or recite a few lines for the paying public, so it's clearly not that either.
Admittedly i'm no real fan of growing old. I've heard all the comments about it just being a number and all in your head and only as old as the woman you feel but still, proclaiming to the world that you're another year older just doesn't seem that bright to me. When you stop relating to the characters in 'Friends' and start to feel a greater affinity with the cast of 'One Foot in the Grave', it's time to let that particular date in the diary pass without incident as far as i'm concerned.
Of course, the main problem is that most people seem utterly incredulous that you might actually want to keep things quiet and ignore your birthday, particularly one which has the supposed significance of four zero. Friends have even taken it upon themselves to 'cure' me of this terrible affliction. They now make even more fuss than they would had i opted to celebrate in the traditional manner. It's clearly a no win situation, which is why i've paid a great deal of money to have my birth certificate altered slightly. No longer the 27th of February, it now reads the 29th.
That was ten years ago now, so those of you with a B or above in O' Level maths will have no trouble working out what particular birthday i've just had to endure. Needless to say it was hideous.
Now please don't think for a minute that i'm some kind of miserable, party-pooping, kill joy who cant stand the sight of people enjoying themselves. Nothing could be further from the truth, and in fact Christmas celebrations are possibly the highlight of my year so it's not annually organised events i'm against. Equally, i don't mind being the centre of attention from time to time and have been known to sing a song or recite a few lines for the paying public, so it's clearly not that either.
Admittedly i'm no real fan of growing old. I've heard all the comments about it just being a number and all in your head and only as old as the woman you feel but still, proclaiming to the world that you're another year older just doesn't seem that bright to me. When you stop relating to the characters in 'Friends' and start to feel a greater affinity with the cast of 'One Foot in the Grave', it's time to let that particular date in the diary pass without incident as far as i'm concerned.
Of course, the main problem is that most people seem utterly incredulous that you might actually want to keep things quiet and ignore your birthday, particularly one which has the supposed significance of four zero. Friends have even taken it upon themselves to 'cure' me of this terrible affliction. They now make even more fuss than they would had i opted to celebrate in the traditional manner. It's clearly a no win situation, which is why i've paid a great deal of money to have my birth certificate altered slightly. No longer the 27th of February, it now reads the 29th.
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