A Woman of Action

I am planning a 30th birthday celebration that will involve planes, another country and one night.

It should satiate a little my need to travel. To add to the mix a meal at a classy (read expensive) restaurant in a fancy hotel, a partner or two in crime (or three or four if I've been a good girl) and a pulsating time doing the foxtrot at a dancehall (perhaps the contemporary version of would be better, but I wouldn't complain if indeed the foxtrot was back in vogue by then) then I should be a pretty happy camper for having lived on this planet for 30 years.

Any excuse to hop on a plane really.

And if I should die on the way (pardon my morbid thought, I promise the thought will end well, oh pardon the pun) it shall be with a smile for I know I was on my way to having a wonderful time.

Now isn't that just nice and dandy and full of sunshine and lollipop?