Last night I went out in London town for the first time since Isobel was born - no I can't believe it either.
I even wore these beautiful high, high heels. (My feet have never been so pleased to see my converse as they were this morning - I guess I'm out of practise)
Me and my shoes went to the gorgeous, gorgeous Buddha Bar under the guise of continuing to celebrate my birthday with the people who couldn't make it before. (Yes, I do LOVE birthdays, and October is a good one for them: mine, my mummy's and well, you'll see.)
I had a great time, but when midnight came and I had to go, I just wanted to go clubbing. But the thought of my 6:30 am wake up call drove me homeward on that last train.
I do I have a confession though, it really was a ruse; the real birthday boy couldn't organise his own party, so we toasted him anyway. I'd much rather celebrate James' birthday than remember his leaving.
Another secret I'll share with you is that white sambucca is indeed marvellous medicine - no hangover!
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