#oneaday Day 121: First of May

Good evening all! It’s a little late, I know, but I’ve just got back from the weekend of my birthday celebrations which actually turned out to be rather more of a big deal than I originally anticipated. Still, nothing like seeing in a significant milestone in your ageing process with a bang, is there?

I can safely say that this weekend just gone has been pretty damn awesome. Definitely the best birthday I’ve ever had and certainly one of the best — if not the best — weekends I’ve ever had. So wins all round on that front, then.

A big public thank you to everyone who helped make this weekend what it was, and an extra special thank you to Andie, who not only took me to London on Royal Wedding day (a less unwise thing to do than it sounds, surprisingly) and spoiled me rotten with dinner, a show, awesome company and a lovely hotel, but is also the reason I am now in possession of the only existing canvas print (to my knowledge, anyway) of one of my silly cartoon strips. Pictures to come.

Thanks, too, to everyone who came out last night — there were a lot more of you than I was expecting, which was awesome, though I’m pretty sure it made the nice men who ran the restaurant want to kill us. But oh well — we ate lots and left them a pretty generous tip, frankly, so I’m sure they can deal with it.

Sorry that some of you weren’t able to make it out, but I’m almost certain I will catch up with each and every one of you. I’m talking particularly to my friends in the Southampton area here, obviously — those of you who are further afield (such as in different countries!) I will come and see you when I win the lottery!

I think I’ve mentioned this before (in fact, in four hundred and *mumble* entries, I’ve probably mentioned most things at least once) but I find it interesting how somewhere can still feel like “home” even when you don’t live there any more. Southampton may not be the nicest place in the universe, but I spent a significant proportion of my life there, and as such, every time I go back — and see the people whom I associate with that place, even if they also don’t live there any more — it feels like coming home. The familiar streets, the same old shops, the same old throngs of zombie-like pedestrians congregating like a gibbering horde outside WestQuay. It’s a comforting sense of familiarity, and while I may never live specifically in Southampton again (possibly) it’s nice to know it’s a place I can definitely hang my hat on and call “home”.

Conversely, the place I currently live in — the home I grew up in, in deepest darkest Cambridgeshire — hasn’t felt like home since I left for the first time back in 1999. This may be because of the fact I barely know anyone here any more and thus don’t really socialise or get involved in nightlife around here much (nor do I have any real desire to, to be honest, as at some point I’ll move on again) or it may be the fact that I moved back here last September out of necessity rather than a desire to. It may also be something to do with the fact that the majority of my worldly possessions are still in cardboard boxes in the garage, meaning I haven’t really made my living space completely “my own” — because, well, it’s not. But needs must and all that.

But enough of that. It’s 20 past midnight and I am absolutely exhausted after a long drive. I am going to sleep like a log tonight. Starting now.

Thanks again to all who made this weekend what it was. I’ll see you all — along with the people I didn’t get a chance to see — soon!