14 October 2008
thirty....aaargh....
Although my voice is still rather squeaky, and sometimes people ask me for i.d. when I try to buy wine, today is my thirtieth birthday. I must spend it running seminars on Kant and then giving a lecture on Being, but that seems only appropriate. The tree outside my window is properly autumnal, and tATu is on the stereo. Thirty years ago the Winter of Discontent saw my parents struggling to get some sleep as they looked after their slightly unwell baby; thirty years later, everything has gone wrong again, only much worse this time around - best worst - horrah for such cycles of desolation and destruction! And happy birthday to me; did we ever think we would make it so far?
