Birthday Week

I LOVE BIRTHDAYS. They are definitely better than Christmas, which is ultimately the celebration of a dead man's birthday. They are also a perfect excuse to spend an entire day (or week in my case) being excessively self-indulgent and actually having the right to feel annoyed if people don't celebrate your wonderfulness with you.

This year I experienced what I imagine it feels like to be a twin, as my housemate Trusha's birthday is on the 24th of November and mine is on the 25th. The truth is, I'm a shameless attention seeker and part of the reason why I love my birthday is ultimately because it provides a fantastic opportunity for me to just show off. But I loved being a kind of twin. It actually meant that we had double the fun, double the amount of friends at our birthday party and double to amount of cake. And because our birthdays aren't actually on the same day we managed to have all the benefits of sharing without having to compromise of individuality.

We had a joint party at Mello Mello Cafe which describes itself as a 'community outreach cafe' and is fiercely independent, fighting against the ever growing consumerist world, it only sells organic and fairtrade produce and is highly supportive of community and charity ventures. This unique venue was further enhanced by our jazz band who combined with copious amounts of lethal punch, truly made it a night to remember. 

All in all, it was a wonderful birthday. Thank you everyone who made it so special. 

Time is precious

 

Never make someone a priority if they consider you an option - Maya Angelou

In many ways time is one of life's most precious commodities, we should all learn to spend it wisely. The truth is not everyone deserves it. 

Nature or Nurture?

This evening following the Liverpool University Drama Society's production of 'Playhouse Creatures', we went home, drank tea, and discussed the relative responsibility that nature and nurture plays in making you the person you become Our discussion, as all of the best are, was inconclusive. But it did make me think of this poem:

'This Be The Verse'

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.

  They may not mean to, but they do.

They fill you with the faults they had

  And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn

  By fools in old-style hats and coats,

Who half the time were soppy-stern

  And half at one another's throats.

Man hands on misery to man.

  It deepens like a coastal shelf.

Get out as early as you can,

  And don't have any kids yourself.

                    Philip Larkin

Larkin was clearly a miserable old bastard, but his cynicism rings true.