Tuesday, 13 May 2003


I'm 33 today, I was @ 1.30am actually. I've hated every minute of being over the age of 30 so far. Just feel like I'm inching closer and closer to some (imaginary) critical date at which point I will have failed to make a success of myself (judging against my own internal targets, naturally). I don't own a house, or a car, have any children or a husband. When we were little my sister thought that I'd have a great boyfriend by the time I was 18 ("knowing him, he'll have an open air car"). I sometimes think I haven't quite been totally committed to any of the boyfriends so far because they have all, every single one of them, failed to live up to this exacting standard. I have NEVER been out with a man who owned an open air car. I would like to be able to afford my own and sometimes try to imprint this measure of success onto my ambitions but it never quite manages to overimpose the one set in stone when I was 10. I also used to want to live in the cream coloured houses that surround Regent's Park - the ones with columns outside the doors and wraught iron fencing - that ambition was picked up from a 70s advert where three young people were walking down a similar street, a man and two girls - he was giving one of the girls a piggy-back, everyone was laughing (it was advert world) and I want an old fashioned millionaire was playing (I was too young to remember what was being advertised but the lifestyle was what I aspired to). But the property boom has put paid to me ever achieving that ambition. I sometimes think I'd just like to be happy (and I am mostly) but I'm not sure its enough, if you're the kind of person who is ambitious I wonder if you can ever really be satisfied and satisfaction with your lot is probably the basis of happiness.

The older I get the more disappointing receiving gifts becomes - nobody ever tries to suprise me anymore so I often get given exactly what I want (and these are often fantastic presents - state of art gadgets etc - which I love, so I'm not knocking them) but it used to be great when the gift arrived wrapped without me having an inkling what would be inside (my mum was the best gift buyer). Today my sister sent me a hand and a footprint of my neice (6 months) in plaster - which was great and boyfriend brought some long stemmed flowers with a fantastic fragrance into work (suprise, very romantic). So on the 33rd birthday the thoughts were perfect.

Oh yes, and Jesus died when he was 33, as I was reliably informed by my father (strict baptist upbringing - well informed in these matters). Ever the optimist.

Other People Born on 13 May: (in no particular order and forgive me if they're incorrect)

  • Dennis Rodman, basketball player - 1961

  • Stevie Wonder, superstar - 1950

  • Richie Valens, singer of 'La Bamba' etc - 1941

  • Harvey Keitel, filmstar - 1939

  • Arthur Sullivan, of Gilbert & Sullivan - 1842

  • Joe Lewis, boxer - 1914

  • Beatrice Arthur, deep voiced Golden Girl - 1923

  • Daphne Du Maurier, writer - 1907

  • George Braque, cubist painter - 1882

  • Jim Jones, cult leader of the People's Temple - 1931

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