Sunday 24 February 2013

Happy 25th Birthday, Fi.


Our amazing Fi suffered the emotional massacre of turning 25, a quarter of a century in her own words. Must we be so fixed on age? I would try and talk her out of it but I nearly had a melt down at the idea of turning 24 last summer and I don't blame her. It's not getting old, it's realising that your life is flashing before your eyes. I guess you have to take it as a personal reminder to make the most of what you have. Suddenly, we're young adults in our mid twenties and it knocks the wind out of you.
For the first time I can remember, I spaced out my camera. I completely forgot to charge the battery before I left and it was so low it couldn't even muster one shot. I had to use my phone so sadly most of the photos aren't great quality.
 
We headed to Las Iguanas on Mill Lane for dinner and drinks. I'd never been there before and I was briefly impressed at their prices, I'd expected to pay a lot more than £6.20 for the strongest cocktail I've ever had and £8.20 for a giant plate of food (mushroom burrito). Our table was quite big with 16 of us and we had most of the surrounding tables hooting with applause after a racous round of 'happy birthday'. My cocktail was a 'tequila berry smash' made of tequila, ice, fresh mint and rasberry coulis. I was smashed. It was great.
 




 
Half of us ended up Revolution which was quite busy. I don't know how we ended up snagging a circular booth but it provided a stable platform for shots and our new game - FIT/NOT FIT. The game revolves around people watching (the basis of any good friendship) and with intended discretion you deem passing strangers as attractive or gruesome, depending on how enthusiastic your screams. It is not gender specific, for example as a straight girl I am not exempt from judging other girls. Couple the game with heavy doses of even more tequila (two shots every time I went to the bar to go with my Jammy Bastard cocktail) and it makes for one happy Jillie. Despite even drinking coloured vodka shots (my worst sober nightmare) I made it home in one piece, even managing to remove my make up, place all of my clothes in the washing basket, find clean pyjamas and have a coffee at half three in the morning.

 
xoxo

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