Birthday Bonus

I have half an hour left of being 23. While i should be out prancing around in my scandalous red lace dress, I'm instead having a typing party with the company of the latest hit tune 'MSN pop up sound'. Sad but true. Well someone has to bring home the bacon, maybe beef in this case. Fear not, when this little yabancı (foreigner) behind is out of the palace doors it will be unleashed and will shake a little tail feather. 80s style this time- yeah, its a bash at sal's and every ones invited.

So what are you waiting for? Don't worry, Ill make up the cost of the airfare with Turkish men, or women, or both- which ever you prefer. They're a dime a dozen here, funny that.

4 minutes until the clock strikes 12 and i feel a moment of birthday blues. When at home, my man has this habit of constantly being on the phone, not just enjoying an intimate chat while lounging on the couch, he likes to pace. He paces up and down the whole flat. I assume this is partly his man of the house pride and partly the desire to take back four years of leaving his goldmine of friends behind. Fair enough really. But i often think, shit. Where is my gold mine? Well, we all know where it is, it's just not able to be seen. My time here has been accompanied with the gold sifting pan in hand where I've tried to claim some shiny new friends. Well, i did, some nuggets came my way. Quite a few lovelies actually. But at times like those (the man pacing) and right now i think about what I've left behind. So this birthday ill be dancing with my new nuggets and ill be drinking for my solid gold rocks, you bloody buggers.

And the clock strikes 12. Twenty four and no return, thank god for that.