The good die young. I have always suspected myself to be good, but longed to be bad. Now that I am officially old, I have irrefutable proof of my badness. Youth for badness is not such a shabby trade. Plus, now that I'm old, it will be easier to date younger men.Thirty is not half bad so far... as you can see from the following party photos, I am taking my new status as an adult very seriously:
At my party, there was another Doomsday Birthday Cake of course.
My cocktail themed birthday party was totally classy until after my third martini when I picked up a guitar and cigarette even though I don't play or smoke.
My guests were ignoring me so I pulled out my signature move, the monkey dance.
I then made an unsucessful, drunken attempt at Bach's "Toccata and Fugue in D Minor" on the organ.