42

I am now as old as the answer to the question of life, the universe and all the rest. Maybe that means this year will be even more confusing than the 41 before this one, or maybe I'll finally get the answer. Either way, I had a great birthday, with two days off work and a visit by my oldest, bestest friend. We only left the flat twice, once to have dinner at the nearest best Indian restaurant, once to buy groceries. Other than that, we sat and chatted, watched TV (How I Met Your Mother and The Voice UK, mostly), had tea and talked, hung out, caught up, taked shop (aka writing)... It was wonderful. I'm lucky and thankful to have a friend like that.

In other news, the morning of my birthday brought an email from Australia (and I do owe you one in return) which had me grinning all day. One more step in boosting my confidence in my writing.

In yet more news, there are a handful of currently living authors that I would be over the moon to meet (one of them I owe an email to, see above). Thanks to the Sherlock fandom and the contacts I made through it, I will most likely meet another in London later this month. I've been reading her books since I was 15. I hope I will not embarrass myself by fangirling overmuch or not being able to speak.