54 Things I know to be True on My Birthday
Me, me and a little bit more about me! Did I mention me?
Happy birthday to me! It was actually on Friday, but I like to eke it out. Well, here we are again, another 365 days around the sun for this quinquagenarian (now that’s a word) and I’ve no plans to throw in the towel any time soon (if there is a god, don’t start getting any ideas, just sayin’).
Last year I decided to celebrate my birthday on Substack with a jolly grateful post about how happy I was still be alive at 53 even though I have a form of blood cancer that will always be with me. Every single day is a privilege and I’m looking forward to many more chances to make a total fool of myself, forget why I went upstairs, lose the car again at Tesco’s car park, or go bright red and wish the ground would swallow me up when someone comes up to me and says: “aren’t you that guy that did the dance around his bollards?”
This year, I thought I’d try my hand at something that the wonderful
did so brilliantly a while back. I won’t possibly be able to match up to her ability to write so succinctly, but hopefully it’ll make you smile on this bank holiday weekend. I’d love to know your list of things you know to be true, so feel free to share them in the comments.As it’s my birthday weekend and the sun is shining, I thought I’d give a very special 20% off all subscriptions.
I very much like being invited to parties and events, but never want to actually go. The nearer it gets to the date, the more excuses I can think of and the more elaborate they become. I so want to be brave enough to just say: “Oh I’d love to come but the problem is I really don’t want to”. Instead I find myself concocting lines like: “Oh I would, but the problem is I’ve just tripped over a lesbian and fallen down a cliff, so I won’t be able to make it I’m afraid.”
If you ever knock on my door unannounced I will greet you with a smile, invite you in and offer you a glass of something fabulous. But, I will secretly hate you forever more. I need notice.
I am the descendant of a murderer. Make of that what you will.
I have no understanding of the allure of the many seemingly unending variations of Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, Star Wars, or Game of Thrones. Each installment seems exactly the same as the last. I call them ‘Chasing programmes’ because everyone seems to be running from someone for no apparent reason. I don’t care about the damn ring, you can keep it!
The reason they put holes in crocs is so your self-respect can seep out effortlessly.
If I see a sign that tells me not to do something I immediately want to do it and become obsessed. In plumbing, there’s such a thing called ‘Push-Fit’: pipes and joints that don’t require any tools, just a quick push. They have sharp clasps inside them and it says very clearly not to put your finger inside. Well, I had to didn’t I?
However many times I say to myself I definitely do not need any more stuff, I still buy more stuff.
I love my dog more than I love most humans.
In restaurants I always have to sit with my back against a wall. I can’t stand being in the middle of a room in public. I also have a deep aversion to large tents/warehouse-style spaces with thousands of people in them.
I don’t really like other people’s children. I don’t have any of my own.
You can never have too many plants, cushions, throws, table runners, lamps, vases, styling props or shoes.
Never be rude to a waiter.
I have one very large kidney, enormous in fact, but it has never stopped me drinking, nor shall it ever.
On that note, there is nothing better in this world than a chilled glass of Chablis/Champagne - Taittinger, if you’re thinking of buying.
Starting a new garden is one of the most exciting things on earth, particularly when you know you’re going to get to see it mature.
Always carry a spare pair of undies, a toothbrush, a battery pack, a swimsuit, wet wipes, antacids and a good book in your hand luggage.
I have an almost painful urge to want to laugh when I’m not supposed to.
If smoking didn’t kill me, smell so awful and wasn’t so expensive, I would happily puff away till the end of my days.
I once had to hide underneath a bed whilst my lover and his husband made out on it. I was young and foolish.
I still haven’t worked out what a potato ricer is for.
There is clean and not clean. There’s nothing in between.
On that note, I only do a proper clean when people are coming over and then I go hell for leather.
I am stubborn, and have a real problem with forgiveness. But, I’m also fiercely loyal and not afraid to stand up for what I believe in.
I don’t like surprises, particularly birthday parties, again I need notice.
I’m a failed minimalist and calm Scandi-neutral lover. There are just too many lovely colourful things. Whatchagonnado?
However thin I have been in my life I have never been content. I either felt the need to bulk up by eating raw eggs and protein shakes, or thought I was fat when I really wasn’t. Now I actually am fat (careful what you wish for) and I have such regret for not being more grateful in my svelte days. I’m determined to be slimmer again just because I was so much happier then and even more determined to be grateful and very pleased about it to the point of annoyance.
I have very few real friends who I adore and I’m perfectly comfortable with that.
I have never met anyone that loves Christmas more than me. I could happily make it last till March. I also love snow and we don’t get enough of it
I love conspiracy theories and am very superstitious. Starts doing Olly Murs’s Stevie Wonder dance.
I don’t like the world very much since the pandemic. People seem to have become so self-absorbed, like no one else exists. There also seems to be a total disregard for rules. There’s a reason a car has indicators.
I don’t worry about what hasn’t happened yet, except for anything to do with heights.
I am an eternal optimist, possibly to the point of deluding myself. Almost anything is possible. I’m not very good at being down. I tend to bore myself stupid after half a day and have to buck my ideas up. I’m a firm believer in the stiff upper lip, which I know is unfashionable.
I’m a dab hand at the egg and spoon race, but all other forms of sport leave me cold. However, if men played rugby naked I would watch it all the time.
I don’t see the point of jealousy. Do the work, get what you want, or at least die trying.
I’m not sure any home is a forever home, they’re just right at the time and that might be a lifetime.
There is nothing more wretched than a surprise caper. I call them ‘Pledge Beans’ on account they taste of furniture polish.
I’m painfully shy. I do a very good impression of a confident soul, but alas it’s all a front.
I am brilliant at the name guessing game. Take any ordinary stranger and try to guess their name, it’s so much fun. I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve turned to my husband and said: “oh she’s such a Janice” and then it’s proved true.
I have the ability to be supremely selfish sometimes and then beat myself up about it.
I have inordinate amounts of Catholic guilt. It’s been 41 years since my last confession.
‘Resealable’ film lids on coleslaw and the like are a completely useless invention, and I’d like the person who dreamt that one up to have to present to the world how, in actual fact, they are resealable.
I am very suspicious of an air fryer.
Paperwhite Narcissus smell of cat pee, which upsets me because they’re so pretty.
Mama Cass’s ‘Make Your Own Kind of Music’ is one of the greatest songs of all time, as is ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water’ by Simon and Garfunkel, ‘9-5’ by Dolly Parton and Sunshine on my Shoulders by John Denver. Don’t care how uncool that makes me. A Piece of Sky sung by Barbra Streisand is my favourite song of all time and the rousing last note is one of the longest ever recorded in a studio. During my research I found this glorious rendition of Leaving on a Jet Plane, another superb song, with both Denver and Cass Elliot. Just had to share it today. Mama Cass is very cheeky at the beginning of the video. They both had such tragic ends. Although, contrary to popular belief she didn’t die choking on a ham sandwich.
I’m a very tidy person, but if you open a cupboard be prepared for everything to fall on you.
I am hopelessly romantic and will love my husband till the end of my days. Maybe not the same husband, but…(jokes).
There is nothing more funny than someone falling over.
I hope my final meal on earth is fish cakes on a bed of peppery rocket, a lemon-butter sauce and a side of triple-cooked chips.
I think sex is hugely over-rated and would happily opt for the above.
I can’t eat anything which still looks like the animal it once was. Deboning a chicken gives me the heebie-jeebies.
I have no understanding of why anyone can despise another person just because of the colour of their skin, gender, orientation, faith or anything they can’t change. It just seems such an utterly pointless, waste of energy and time.
I believe in ghosts and have seen many.
Before we go on holiday I have to clean the loos, clean everything actually, spray the house with scent and hide anything I don’t want people to find from my bedside drawer just in case we die in a plane crash.
My perfect dinner party guest list, dead or alive, would be: Sarah Millican, Barbra Streisand, Whoopi Goldberg, Victoria Wood, Jeff Bridges (but only when he was in ‘Against All Odds’), Princess Margaret, Ellen DeGeneres, Jack from Will & Grace, Ryan Reynolds (when he was in anything) and The Cookie Monster.
Please do share your own list in the comments below. I can’t wait to read them. Right, I’m off for a glass of champers and perhaps a fish cake or two. Let’s hope it’s not my last meal. Laters!
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A brilliant post, and happy belated birthday. After reading I’ve discovered instead of an old lady , I am in fact a gay 50 year old man 🤭 apart from the tattinger and hiding under the bed, I’m the same 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
Happy birthday gorgeous JP. And I am definitely going to work the gripped over a lesbian excuse into my vernacular. (I tell you what I like: when someone cancels and you get a last minute reprieve!) xx