An entry dedicated to being a birthday girl
30.03.11, 7:22 pm

I was supposed to go to see my dad two weekends ago, as I hadn't seen him since Christmas and it was my birthday last weekend, so it seemed like a nice thing to do. I rang him on Friday night after work to confirm when we were arriving and the conversation went like this:

Me: Hello, just ringing to confirm about tomorrow and that.
Dad: Tomorrow?
Me: Yeah, me and James are coming up...
Dad: Oh, you're coming, are you?
Me: Of course I am � we decided on it last weekend...
Dad: Ohhh. Oh yeah, it's on the calendar as well. Hmm.
Me: Is there a problem?
Dad: It's just things are a bit manic and... can I ring you back in five minutes or so?
Me: Okay.

Me: He's totally forgotten. I bet you any money we're not going up now.
James: You don't know that.

Dad: Hi! Listen, do you mind if we postpone to another weekend? It's just we have to see Amandroid's mother on Sunday, and today I just have lots of really important stuff to do on the allotment, and I've got to take the garden gate off to fix the hinges, so there's that as well.

So yeah, I was sacked off for a garden gate. I know that five minutes between phone calls was basically Amandroid demanding that he cancel and do all of the domestic stuff for her. I know that she's demanding and jealous and a nightmare. He still doesn't have to be so spineless though. His crapness was then compounded by him texting me to ask what I wanted for my birthday (random PS3 game) and then having said game sent straight here 3 days early via Amazon without even bothering to tick the 'gift-wrap' option, so I just opened it randomly anyway. He then didn't send me a birthday card, and didn't ring me on my birthday, although he did at least text me. I am so very unimpressed with him at the moment, but unfortunately have gotten so used to him being rubbish that I only have a vague feeling of resigned disappointment left.

Anyway, James took me away to Louth last weekend and it was AMAZING. He spent Friday in Lincoln, which I've never visited before, and it was gloriously sunny and warm, and the architecture was beautiful and we got to see a bit of the Magna Carta, and we had a huge lunch of wonderfulness. The rest of the time was spent in Louth, where we went on a 6-mile walk over the Wolds. 6 miles is the furthest that I've walked since I got ill, and though it was pretty tortuous by the end it was in no way unmanageable. I also didn't suffer too much the following day, so the whole thing's been chalked up as an uber yay-me moment. On the Saturday night we ate an epic 9-course meal at the place we were staying - portions not massive, in case you're thinking that I exploded a la Fat Man in Monty Python - and then on the Sunday we visited The Cheese Shop. And then I died and went to heaven the end.

The boy also did brilliantly with presents � I'm going to a guitar workshop for 2 days in September that's run by Martin Simpson, i.e. one of the greatest ever acoustic guitar players and my absolute hero. I'm really excited and also somewhat nervous, because you always have that lurking fear that you'll be the crappiest player there. Still, Martin bloody Simpson!

For anyone who's mildly curious about all the Rebecca Black � Friday bollocks that's currently flying around and is thinking about going on YouTube and listneing to the song? Yeah, don't. I did and now want to bleach my brain forever. The video's also incredibly disturbing because she's only 13 and there's a total sexual predator cruising around in a pimp-mobile for the middle 8 section. Argh, my eyes.

Masterchef tonight! Lovely innocent Masterchef full of nice middle-class cooking. That'll make it better.

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