Now I am 30

Called in sick today owing to evil period pains and just generally feeling completely exhausted. This weekend was my 30th birthday party, organised by the lovely Lucy. It was so nice of her but I admit I actually found it really, really stressful, partly cos I could see she was stressed and partly cos I always find birthdays hard. She hired a rowing boat to take me to  a picnic! It was amazing, so sweet, but I felt a bit embarrassed - when we organised things for her it was because she was getting married. I'm just turning 30, which is slightly less exciting all round, if we're being honest. It ended at a supperclub, which was hilarious - the most disorganised chef I've ever met, but lovely food. However the star of the evening was certainly the hostess - wildly, wildly inappropriate, groped everyone (including my brother), stole the cream obscenely from my dessert (hrrrghh), invited some people back to her house, invited someone else to a tranvestite party, gave my poor, very reserved friend a 'beard massage' (at least as creepy as it sounds) and offered me cocaine. It was quite spectacular for a single evening's work. 

Now I'm 30 and need to make some decisions about the following:

1) What  do I want to do? Not happy in my current job. VOLUNTEER and have a think about where you can go next

2) Dating. Do it. Join Guardian soulmates tomorrow. 

3) Find a challenge: creative writing course or choir (trying choir on Thursday)

4) Save up for a place of your own

Took myself to dinner this evening as reward for getting through the day of period pains. It was a bit expensive but amazing, amazing food. L'Entranger, with this menu: http://www.etranger.co.uk/royal-albert-hall-prepost-theatre-menu/. The  steak tartare... god. It was amazing. Slow cooked yolk on top, this unbelievable, truffley, cheesy 'caesar dressing' (was more like puree), crispy, soft polenta chips, a pickle sorbet/cream thing, all the pickles and onions in gorgeous rows next to the steak... god it was good.  Oh, and the mandarin and coffee creme brulee with white chocolate ice-cream was to die for. I don't mean that metaphorically, I actually think I'd die for it. Or at least kill someone I didn't like very much for it. Sharp, creamy, bitter, sweet...I moaned a bit when I first ate it and had to reign it in as I was already the crazy lady on her own in the corner of the restaurant with the black stain on her top (still don't know where that was from, but I had been wandering round London attempting to accomplish several chores without success).

Now I'm going to watch the next episode of the superb Orange is the New Black (the main lesbian couple just FINALLY  got together, which was pretty exciting, though only plotwise, which shows me again how completely and unfortunately straight I am. I think I'd be much better at picking up women, so it's a shame.