Ah man, what a smash.
As each birthday comes and goes, and as we start hating the day more and more, I still love it for one reason: a jolly good excuse to have a party with your nearest and dearest. A chance to get most of your best friends into one room. I love them all so much.
The Roseboys proprietress played out of her boots. She started dancing on the tables at 6:00pm, so we knew we were in for one helluva party.
She even baked me a cake, (which I later forgot there, along with my memory). She made jugfuls of this so-called 'Jungle Juice,' which pretty much left everyone swinging after only two glasses. That stuff was insane. And fucking tasty, might I add.
My mum and step-dad were particularly hilarious, not to mention ever-so-slightly embarrassing. She kept on pulling me aside, after one too many glasses of Jungle Juice, with my hot male friends saying, 'Now Peas, isn't he gorgeous? Look at how gorgeous he is, what a total hunk. You should marry this one.'
Oh my GOD, LOVE it when mum gets hammered.
She did that to about 5 of my mates.
Although that said, some of my male friends were loving my mother. One sent me an SMS saying, 'Oath I want your mum on the great wall of China.'
Nice one Ranga. I let her know. She was very flattered. Although, admittedly, it's too late. She chose a mature-aged German fellow with which to sexually orientate herself on one of the Seven Wonders Of The World.
My step dad was a card. Trying to set up Little Poen with his son. Who lives in America.
They both started rapping off in Portuguese to 3RM, and he doesn't speak one word of his mother tongue (blasphemy I say), and she kept on asking okes if they were Poen's boyfriend who is a game ranger in Kenya. ('Are you the bush gigolo then?')
There was much dancing and tomfoolery, and sadly the last two hours are pretty much unaccounted for. Whale was buying Jaegers, the Jungle Juice was working its magic, and I briefly remember dancing about, although of that I cannot be certain.
Then Poen told me the next day that my nipple was sniper-firing her boyfriend. 'Poen don't you wanna pop Peas' boob back into her dress?'
Then 3RM reminded me that Top Gun – the movie – is 22 years old.
Shut the fuck up. I've been watching Tom Cruise for most of my life?
So apparently I'm old. Oh well, whatyougonnado?
There were big plans to go and shake ass at Movida afterwards, but at that stage none of us could organise a piss up in brewery because we were all over the place. Ches followed me home to ensure I didn't kill myself, and then told me he stumbled into a flower bed whsilst trying to jump over it and lay there until the security guard could help him out.
As with all birthdays, you never get to spend ample time with any one person, but instead flit about talking to everyone. But I had such a good time; having my friends in one room leaves me so happy.
On my actual birthday, yesterday, I went out for lunch with the folks and did some Diemersfontein winetasting with Poen at the Inanda Club.
Then. For a walk around Emmarentia Botanicals with A New Friend. Ended up spending hours with this guy talking everything from soap dishes to nuclear reactors and isotopes. Love that. Ending off with a few drinks at the Shebeen in Greenside.
A nice, unexpected birthday really.
At 28, I feel good. Good and happy. I am so lucky.