Empty Cage

Because when I was little my favourite number was (and still is) twenty-seven I used to tell everyone my birthday was January 27th. Some people still think it is the 27th, and for some reason I can never bring myself to correct them. It’s amazing how often 27 has come up in my life after deciding it was my favourite number.

Oh my god, I’m almost twenty.

Every single year on my birthday I blog or write about what I thought about the year that has passed, usually ranking it in terms of ‘good’, ‘bad’ or ‘ugly’. Last year was a bit on the ugly side, but I’m confident in my ability to make this year rock. After all, I am going overseas to have some sort of amazing adventure. (At least, that’s what I’m told, I’m still I touch skeptical about the whole thing). I’ve brooded on being old in my journal for ages now and don’t feel like continuing, so, my few empty cage readers… feel very lucky. You could have had to deal with me complaining about being almost a senior citizen. (Not that I would mind a pension).

I have no plans tomorrow, despite being legal drinking age I really do detest drinking in general. So, I’ll have caffine and sugar for my birthday which I doubt is much better for me. I’ll do all my website and other intended updates later, it is my birthday afterall, and I can only use that excuse once a year!