25

Yes, on Sunday I turned 25 years old or as my sister put it, half way to 50.

It was fab. Let me point out to you that I LOVE birthdays. Not just mine (although it is blatantly the best) but everyone's. It is just a great excuse to make a fuss and celebrate and have fun.
I am big on cards and presents and food and drink, banners and badges, all of it.

I mean, what is not to love?

The only thing that gets me is that other people don't like your birthday. I'm not talking about friends or family, they always can be relied on to muster up some excitement, no, I mean the people that don't know you.

Now, I am sure that sounds very weird. Why would they care? But I was thinking on Sunday as I walked through town, all those people wandering about like it was a normal day... then I went on facebook and saw all the status updates: so-and-so slept in till noon today, so-and-so has been shopping. ON MY BIRTHDAY!

I best hurry up and do something spectacular so it becomes an international day of Livy loving.