No late-night partying for me, nor the anticipation of many shot-glasses of peach schnapps (ever since that evening I had one gin and tonic and spent the following hour in the toilet). Nope.
For my birthday, my mum gave me "lucky" money in a red packet, and The Little Madam has been her gorgeous self. The boy has either forgotten, or is waiting for the arrival of a secret shipment of something mostly useless but geeky and expensive. Or perhaps he has finally accepted that I'm a practical woman with simple tastes, and just want to be taken out to lunch in the weekend.
The radio is tuned to an easy-listening channel, and I'm not even bothered by the fact that I haven't heard a song yet which was recorded later than about 1990.
The haircut I got last Saturday is, despite my hairdresser's protests to the contrary, mumsy. It's short and low maintenance and you will never see it on a twenty-something.
On the other hand, it's not often that on the day of my birthday (being Spring) the weather doesn't resemble a backdrop to The Tempest.
So I'm thankful I can be comfortably boring on a warm and sunny day.