The Birthday Post.

As I sit here, nibbling on tiny forkfulls of leftover ice-cream birthday cake and flipping through the paper, I settle into a glass of wine and exhale. So I'm not too pissed off, upset, bitchy, heartbroken or all of the above this year to write the Birthday Post. In fact, I am doing pretty darn good this summer.

I spent the last few moments of my teenage life watching P.S: I love you, with my brother, being very unimpressed with how mediocre the movie was and singing "Teenage Dirtbag" in my head. (My love for Gerard Butler is no way reflected by my feelings for this shit movie, in all its sweet glory)

I have no tales of getting older, no advice for younglings and no regrets to this point. The one thing I've known, if not learned is to love. Love like its religion. If you have no religion, love like its not religion. Because, we all make mistakes, we all do stupid things, we all cry, we all hurt. The last thing we need is more hate, and people walking around thinking they're better or worse off. We're all the same, but we all love different.

Introspection aside. I miss Gloria like a crazy monkey without Bananas. She's smack dab in the middle of her exams and moving (again!) so our conversation as remained reduced to offline messages on Msn as well as the occasional text. For example, random ones I send her saying, "Sitting down to Riverdance now, Whee! Thought of you" and random ones she sends me saying, "Woot! Satriani is coming to Sydney!" We are as random as we are racially different. As we push full speed ahead to 10 years of blissful friendship, we may not talk as much as we'd like or see each other at all for years, but I couldn't ask for a better best friend in the whole wide beautiful world.

I realise that this Birthday post, doesn't really dwell on the birthday itself, so I shall now reconvene. I spent my birthday shopping. I wanted a day to myself, to shop in peace, with funding of course. This resulted in a very dolled up, excited me, in incredibly non-shopping heels and M street, in all its wonderful glory of tiny shops, designers and pretty people. I discovered this charming little 'hole in the wall' vintage store that I instantly fell in love with. It underground nature and its tiny novice appearance made it all the more endearing. The only problem was that it was chocked full of beautiful dresses, pins, jewels and books that I didn't know where to start or end for that matter. But the dresses made me squeel, gasp and whimper all out loud because they were gorgeous. My odd behaviour did not phase others around me because they were all taken by my splendid looking shoes in all its black ribbony tie up glory and they could stop to care that the owner of the feet that were in those shoes was behaving like a lunatic.

Moving along. I spent the rest of the afternoon groping Manolos and Louboutins and whispering sweet nothings to them. Those two men and I had a very good time. I'd find myself exhaling "Hello Christian!" in manner of Satine everytime I spotted red soles. All in all it was a marvelous birthday.

I've pretty much been happier than a teenage boy watching Aerosmith's 'Crazy' video.