The Birthday Girl

Today is my birthday. Happy birthday to me. To celebrate I shall give you all a gift to treasure, laminate and stick above your bed or bog...a photo of me dressed up as Supergirl.

I'm at the stage in my career where I don't get out of bed for less than five bottles of pinot, $100 cash and a pound of grapes, and luckily that was exactly what this gig was paying. So I got out of bed. I even did my own makeup. I'm so beautiful. So very very beautiful. Women must hate me when I become more beautiful than them by simply donning a blond wig, green eye shadow and some lipstick for my lips and cheeks. I was part of a 'meet and greet' duo which required me to say, 'Hi, you look SUPER!, I'm SUPERgirl, welcome to our SUPER Christmas party, I hope you have a SUPER time!' I didn't have to say that, but I find it's easier to relentlessly repeat one line so you can stop thinking and go to your happy place to kill yourself.

Actually it wasn't that bad. At least I wasn't alone. I was meeting and greeting with Superman!

We make a lovely couple. Regular readers might recognise Superman as Lucius Malfoy to my Severus Snape or as Randy to my Candy. I've sort of already posted this next photo, but it's my birthday so I can do it again to further reinforce how pretty am.

I'd be very surprised if any women reading this are not seething with jealousy and making sure their boyfriends and husbands don't catch a glimpse of me looking so pretty and provocative. In this one I think I look a bit like an emaciated Susan Boyle on crack. I'd love to tell you how old I've turned today but instead I'll let you guess from these photos. Some people might say I'm too old to dress up as women for wine and grapes but to be honest, there's not much else I'm qualified to do...except maybe become a high school drama teacher. And now these photos have been released onto the interweb that career bridge has probably been burnt as well. Just as well.