On Wednesday evening, my parents arrived from Reading – why, I can’t remember – and we ended up going to my favourite restaurant in Oxford. It’s a beautifully decorated tapas place which feels like the South of Spain/ Morocco and whose staff are so friendly. I’ve genuinely lost count of how often I’ve been there, but if you only go to one restaurant in Oxford, go to Kazbar!
Did that stop me from returning the next night with a group of friends, many of whom are my closest here in Oxford? Don’t be ridiculous. Luckily Tristan, see here, caught it all on camera:
AH OH MY GOD YOU GUYS ARE JUST SO DAMN GREAT. Ok.
(Of my actual birthday-day, the Friday, I have few memories. Largely because I took no photos, which I really feel validates the first point on this list. Never mind. Rose, the girl whose birthday I joyfully share, and I and some friends went for breakfast and then we all went out in the evening.)
The week ended on a hilarious, wobbly high when Sam (pictured above in the red jacket) and I worked the bar at a ball. St Hilda’s Ball. It was a terrible ball, but we had a great time talking, laughing at ridiculous people and eating candy floss. That’s what friends are for, right?
I feel so so so lucky. Up until now my birthdays have always been a little bit sad and disappointing but this week was so perfect. It was not all about me, but I was all about it (if that makes sense?) and even if I never have another one again, I will always have the memory of this Happy Birthday.