I'm heading off to the land of love for my birthday thus I'm catching up with friends and family this week. Tonight, it was the turn of my father. I rushed home from lectures, dismissing the pleasure of drinks with friends, and made sure I looked fabulous and had something equally as fabulous in the oven.
My father didn't offer to take me out tonight. My father asked me if I'd make him tea, I said yes because I hate to argue. I popped a quick dinner in the oven and slipped into a pretty dress, my tattoo looking beautiful as it sat on my arm and reminded me how proud I should be of myself.
When my father arrived, we sat down and drank tea and he looked appalled at my quirk on my arm (although later got used to it and loved it). I served dinner at the table and we continued talking- but that was the problem.
My dad drained me tonight. All he went on about was Muffin Top, booking an expensive holiday with Muffin Top and er...Muffin Top! He went on and on about getting in trouble at work, almost being proud of the fact. My father always has been a mess, he has nothing to his name but a car and half a dozen items of clothing. I don't feel sorry for him, he doesn't put himself across as a sad man, but I do feel cross. Why do people feel they can mumble through life without any stability and normality? Call me middle-class if you will.
I'm off to bed soon, happy in the knowledge that tomorrow night is my birthday dinner with my mother and step-family. My father gave me cash and a card, both of wish I don't need.
I've made up a stunning outfit for today. If my father has to put me down, I may as well look stylish as he does so. I've picked this stunning dress by Thurley which is a clear show stopper wherever worn. I've colour clashed the outfit with a turquoise Pucci clutch and jewellery by Bijoux. The pretty hair comb is designed by Salcome, the sandals are by Azzedine Alaia and the look is finished with a Topshop ring.