Twenty-Six Candles

Wednesday, 31 July 2013

So. Two or so weeks ago, I had a birthday. It turned out to be alright.

I've been a bit birthday-apprehensive for some time. I guess it all starts with the fact that although I still feel relatively young (and that's an understatement; I would go as far as to say teenage at times) the facts stack right up against me. Although not prehistoric, 26 seems to be that metaphorical crossing of the line. You are now well and truly nestled in the centrum of your mid-twenties, albeit slightly on the wrong side. You feel that you should experience nothing but grown-up "things" but you cannot let go of the zesty fun side that was perhaps understandable two or three years ago. Putting it in one way and one way only: you begin to feel a bit boring, like you're on your way out. I am trying everything in my power to not feel like this, to the point of even trying to forget my own age - and it works! I was asked for my age by a bouncer last week and I ummed and ahhed so much that I actually got refused entry to the bar I was trying to get into before I could even (falsely) claim that I was 25. Damn, I need to carry my ID with me more often. But I'm 26!

Also, I just feel like all the odds were against me this year. Perhaps an inadvertent karma for the haps of the last (non-)birthday. I came back from Majorca in early June and everything was go-go-go. I didn't stop moving, going places, doing things, working, you name it for what felt like a millennia - and it all went against me. I got sick on my birthday night out; although I was still determined to make the most of it, it soon transpired was going absolutely nowhere. Way to feel truly down in the dumps! And so I spent an (unexpected) Sunday off work wrapped up in my bedsheets pining and whining that I deserved to re-write the whole year. However, without a birthday candle to wish on, my wish was not granted.

On the Monday - my so-called "birthday eve" - things began to look up a little bit. After that whole day of nothingness and recharging my batteries, things felt a lot more calm and I began to feel a little bit more ready. For the complete shift in my working life; for my birthday and the silly little number and everything that came with it; for all the other little quirks and mishaps upon my life; for anything. Then I received a text of sorts. If you know me well enough, you'll know that I'm a spontaneous girl at heart. And so to read - "5pm. Brighton. Be there." was music to my ears. I rammed the first clothes I could find into a bag (none of them matched) and when I rolled out of my new store, I rolled straight on a train to Brighton. And so it began: The Best Birthday I've Ever Had. True story.


Brighton, itself.
Indeedly one of my most favourite places in the whole entire universe. If I could be bothered with rating games, I would without a doubt state that it was in my top three. It is in my belief that one day, I must live here. But for now, stolen visits and snatched memories will suffice. I guess my actual time in Brighton was short, but definitely sweet. I had to prioritise the things I wanted to do the most, which included: drinking an ice-cold beer, eating fish & chips from my favourite beachside venue, having some amazing arcade fun, riding the Crazy Mouse for the very first time and generally just having a chilled out kind of evening. I was also lucky enough to glance over my shoulder and catch the most incredible sunset falling behind one of my most favourite eye-candies: the West Pier.


JB's American Diner.
Three words spring to mind: om yom nom. Punctuated by a whole lotta chomping and salivating. If you ever pay a visit to Brighton, then you've got to dedicate a bit of your brunch budget to JB's - infact, it deserves it all. This little haven is situated on the corner of King's Road and Black Lion Street, just by the seafront. Admittedly, it doesn't look like a magnetic attraction from the outside but dare yourself to cross that threshold and behold the wonder that lies within: a classic American-styled 1950's diner with buffet car decor and a killer soundtrack. Think Eddie Cochran, Johnny Cash, The Drifters, Buddy Holly et al. And then when you've lined your imagination by that hunk o' beaut, slather on top of it the most delicious brunch food you could ever hoped to munch upon: pancakes and bacon and syrup, doorstopper French toast, New York roast potatoes, huge servings of buttery scrambled eggs and everything really. It is an American diner after all! You definitely get more than bang for your buck(!) here and you leave not only over-satisfied, but deliciously plagued with a 1950's brainwash that makes you want to do the twist for the rest of the day. They also serve non-brunch items here and believe me, it's number one on my list for my next Brighton visit.

Did I mention the milkshakes? Actually don't get me started on the muh-hilk-shuh-hakes. Let's leave it at exquisite peanut buttery ice-creamy goodness with green squirty cream and hundreds & thousands and good enough to make you sing C'mon Everybody until the cows come home. Speshul milkshake.

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