So it's here. No denying it now. Oh Fuck, I'm 40.
I didn't feel too bad about it. Though I was a bit hungover and tired, which was occupying my mind more. And I needed to get up and out to start my day of celebrations. I was starting things off by going to the British Museum, because I wanted to see
the Lindow Man, a bog body that I had seen mentioned in an article a couple of weeks back. I thought it would be appropriate to go and look at a man who was older than me and whose skin was more leathery and wrinkled.
I met up with my mate Ben Moor, my only friend who wanted to accompany me on this dull trip. But I was delighted that he was there, both of us having studied History at Oxford University. We would probably be able to tell the curators of the museum a thing or two about their exhibits. Of course we had both wasted our education doing comedy and acting and it was all a long time ago and we seemed to be struggling to remember if the Saxons came before or after the Romans. But then it was early. And one of us in our forties.
The Lindow Man was a bit disappointing. I had thought it was a big special exhibit, but it was a bit hidden away and we actually walked past it once. But we finally tracked him down. He wasn't as good as
the bodies I saw in Copenhagen, but it's still amazing to see a 2000 year old man and the inspiration for the best archaeological joke of all time as he was nicknamed "Pete Marsh" when he was discovered. Get it? Ha ha ha. Archaeologists are funny.
We also saw loads of other cool stuff, stolen from foreign countries by the all powerful raping British Empire. It's packed with treasure and I thought that as it was my birthday they should have allowed me to take one item home with me. But they didn't seem to agree.
Afterwards I went for lunch at Pizza Express - it had to be. I thought I had ordered a Veneziana, but I ended up getting a Fiorentina and it took so long to come that I didn't want to risk sending it back. But maybe this was just Pizza Express's revenge on me for my
previous escapades.
My afternoon was spent watching "Die Hard 4.0" which almost has 40 in the title and also has helicopters being blown up by cars flying into them, so that is good. I am a massive fan of Die Hard and was keen to see how the latest film in the franchise shaped up. And it was a lot of fun. Weirdly it was more like 24 than Die Hard, but then maybe 24 itself was influenced by the adventures of John Mclain, so it's fair enough that the compliment is paid back. My favourite thing was the way that two different people managed to jump off crashing aircraft and fall to the ground and brush themselves off almost completely unscathed. It was very funny. It's worth a look.
In the evening I went for drink and a curry with a dozen or so friends. It was really rather lovely, they were a good mixture of people from different parts of my life, school, college, various jobs, even a couple of ex-girlfriends. It was cool to see them all interacting and getting on and I pretty much forgot that it was my birthday and just enjoyed myself - unlike the party the other week when I got a bit melancholy.
But today I just had fun and it didn't matter to me at all that I was 40 years old. Who cares? It's just a number, you idiots. I am not going to change at all. I've got at least another decade of tomfoolery before I start thinking about growing up. Bring it on!
