Mercy mercy me

There was drama at the birthday party last night. Living up to my apparent Sagittarian live and let live whateverness, I don't get the existence of drama in a bourgeois milieu. But drama there was. Argh. Anyways, I didn't get in any fights. But it was a near thing, and then I got to watch some.

Last night was a 40th birthday. My fortieth is coming up in a little less than 13 years. I should start planning now. The thirtieth I've already planned - tropics. Somewhere reefer grows wild and clothes are optional. If I make it through my twenties and I'm still living in Canada, I plan to take whole fucking stupid snowy piece of shit winter off. Weeeeee! Fortieth I haven't thought through, but I think I'd like a party a little bit like the bits and bobs I remember of Charles and Diana getting married; Dame Commander Kiri ti Kanawa singing, old prelates blessing me and my loved ones, a dress so fucking big people have to help me with it. And then, and only then, I'll snort some crystal. Enter my middle age so fucking happy I'd punch the world in the face for it!