Birthday girl!

It’s my birthday…33 years! Time flies. 33 eventful and uneventful years. I’ve lost both my parents, I’ve gained a half borther who I no longer have any contact with, a number of boyfriends have passed…some made more of an impression than others (you know who you are . Two husband, one divorce. Two children, glorious, beautiful. I’ve never been arrested, but I worked in two coffeeshops. I also met some dubious criminals, but as I don’t want to soil my husband’s spotless CV I shall refrain from telling those stories….just yet. Here I am, 33 years of age, and well in fact feel rather good. It feels more like the crisis has been and gone, I accept my flaws and some of them I even find adding more character. I am after all known for my interest in antiques and I can just conclude that I am on my way to becoming one myself.

Life is not so bad after all…better eventful than uneventful, rather being talked about than not being talked about. And so freak, or no freak, life is fucking brilliant!