Turning 35

Just like that, I turned 35.

For only the second time in my life, I celebrated my birthday in the correct time zone while in London. (It was on May 31, if you're wondering.) It was kind of cool, knowing as the clock ticked past 7.20am in the morning that, YES, I had officially come to the end of my 35th year. Can I also say that it was really nice having people wishing me happy birthday over an extended window from Singapore, even before it was actually time in London? Thanks so much, everyone!

To be honest, I thought I'd feel something about reaching this milestone. 35 sounds like it should be an important year. But in the end, it really didn't. I know I'm one year older, the eye bags are more defined than ever and the age spots are starting to show, each one telling on my lazy, sunblock-shunning youth. But otherwise, I guess I'm starting to realise as the years add up that the number doesn't really matter. It's what you make of your life that does. And mine is, on the most part, sweet.

Which is not to say that I'm content to leave it as it is. I do feel a sense of restlessness and there are some thoughts a-brewing in my mind about stuff I want to achieve this year as I approach middle-age (Eeeps!). But for now, I am happy.

My birthday didn't quite turn out as I planned as I woke up still unable to shake off the fever that I had been having the previous few days. I had been blowing out disgustingly thick mucus and coughing out equally disgusting phlegm for a few days. It was full-on flu. The 34-year old me would probably have insisted on following my programme, but the 35-year old me took a step back to re-assess the situation. And this (I like to think) more mature me agreed with my husband that it was better for me to just take the morning to try to rest and sleep before our dinner date. DD didn't believe me, by the way, when I agreed to rest. He kept giving me funny looks, expecting me to trot out my "sickness and sleep is for the weak" mantra. But I didn't. And the sleep actually did me some good as I woke up ready for a short trip to the National Gallery before dinner at Barbecoa. (I had to cut browsing at Covent Garden out of my programme.)

The National Gallery was wonderful, and dinner was amazing. They are both well worth posts of their own - posts that I hope I get round to writing! But the best part was being able to spend it with one of my closest friends, as well as one of DD's sisters and brother-in-law, who are based in London. I love nothing more than a party so it was really good to be able to have everyone around. So despite the flu, I had a great evening.

What will the year bring? More of the same, I hope. I can't wait to find out.