Tuesday, April 15, 2008
30 is a bunch of roses
I got back to Wellington on my birthday. My 30th to be exact. Yesterday I was filling out a survey and, at the end, they asked me to tick the age bracket I belonged to. Sweet jesus it took some effort to tear myself away from 25-29 and into 30-34.
I also had a most alarming dream about needing botox because, like the doctor in the dream explained, that's what I have to do now I'm 30. Blerdy botox won't be visiting these shores anytime soon.
My darling, darling boy Jules invited friends around for a spot of afternoon tea and bubbles and it was dandy. I was in bed by 8.30. Obviously all the excitement was just a bit too much.
Remy and my holiday down south was good fun once again. There was lots of sleeping and eating and a little thrifting. I picked up an amazing Liberty print shirt dress with a gored skirt and a self-fabric belt. I also scored myself a wee something that still makes my heart race when I see it - a full-length, dark chocolate coloured leather jacket, circa 1940 in mint condition for $10. Yep, 10 bucks. As you'd expect of the 40s, it has the most wonderful shaping at the waist, and lovely panels at the back that make the whole jacket fit perfectly. Ahhhh, so good.
Parenthetically, I'm watching The Way We Were (you know, Barbara Striesand and Robert Redford, oh and that song "MEMORIES, lalaLAlalalalala, something something something, of the way we were") and while the story so far isn't grabbing me, those frocks are. So pretty.
In no time at all we'll be living in South Canterbury. The list of things I have to do and the people I want to see before we go is so long that my nerves are getting jangled. I'm not quite sure why, but I find it too hard to write about the move. Maybe I'll just stay quiet about it for a while, just until I'm more comfortable writing about it.