Die Fledermaus

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Like all good queens, I have two birthdays. Which is to say, the one on Thursday was so nice I thought I'd have another one on Saturday.

There were presents too. First time: Some highly useful but equally dull mains adaptor plugs - so I can plug my three-pin British devices designed for a 240V current into Russian power sockets, which have two pins and 120V. Second time: Erm...a dalek yo-yo. Which is to say, a yo-yo with some dalek stickers.

There seems to be a rack of Dr Who merchandise in every major shop. You can get magazines full of articles that offer an astounding lack of information, masks of every monster that's been featured in the last three years, plastic models of these same monsters, Dr Who lunchboxes, Dr Who geometry sets, Dr Who wristwatches...and for all I know Dr Who condoms.

If there are prophylactics in the range, they will split if used. This is because all Dr Who merchandise splits if used. This is because all Dr Who merchandise is deeply, deeply, crap.

Star Wars action figures may have been a bit of a cynical rip-off - the kind of cynical rip-off that I could now sell for a lot of money on ebay if they weren't all at the bottom of the boy next door's septic tank - but at least they lasted a month before the heads fell off.

I guess the crap of my crappy childhood was better crap than the crap of today's children's crappy childhood. Less crappy.

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Stephen P took me out for a surprise birthday lunch on Friday. It was a surprise because (a) I didn't know he was back in England and (b) it turned out he'd just had a birthday too. He was 25, and couldn't believe he was buying extra-hot spicy Chinese food for a grand old man of 36.

I can't believe it either. How did I get to be 36 years old? What happened to the last ten years and can I try them again please? How come I'm suddenly half my father's age and twice the 18 year old I somehow can't remember being?

And how come my blond, cherubic, youthful 25 year old friend was being sugar daddy for the day? Shouldn't it be the other way around? Or is that what's meant by being an Invert?

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C is also having a birthday, and we should be meeting up on Wednesday - with suitably cheap and silly presents. I don't want to leave for foreign climes without spending half a day with him.

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I keep trying to learn some Russian, but every time I pick up the books, stuff gets in the way. Currently my Klingon is better than my Russian. Majbe' - HolHom.

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My nuts keep disappearing.

On my shelf is a plate, and on that plate is a bag of peanuts. On Friday half the contents were spilled out onto the plate - next day the plate was empty and the bag had bite marks. Then it happened again.

From this I conclude two things. First, that Bert and Ernie - the two mice who I used to catch out of the corner of my eye scampering away - are back, possibly with friends. And second, that they have learned to levitate.

I'm tempted to suspend a peanut by a thread from the light, just to see if it's gone by morning.

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