Myself, two sisters, sister in law and two best friends all went to Manchester last weekend for ma big Three 0.

Why Manchester? Well, initially I thought larging it in Ibiza would be the way to do it but the idea of somewhere hot and sunny wasn't going to be of too much benefit to the the brown half of the group. Plus, I wanted somewhere that was going to be the easiest for everyone to get to and no too damaging to the purse.

Apart from J, coming in from Barcelona - I'm so sorry, I never thought it would be such a hassle but I'm so happy you came over.

The Glasgow part of the gang were dropped off at the car park outside Smeaton's Airport. At Manchester we had to walk to the carpark for our pre-booked taxi, the police officer gentleman took it in good humour when I announced "We're from Glasgow, the state of our airport eh?" etc etc.

On approaching the taxi, my friend M did a Gallagher swagger and started at the taxi driver "arrright-TA". The mood for the weekend was set.

We had a fantastic time and stuck to The Printworks, Deansgate and confusingly Deansgate Locks (trendy canal side mee-ja haunts). Of course six glamourous ladies were always going to attract attention, men were complimentary, flirty and friendly from the white van man "you're gorgeousss" to male hotel residents "ladeeeez".
What made my night were the Gemini/Scoosh boys (22, white shirts, denims and bleached ghd straightened hair) in shock that I was.. oh my god...30??? And that I had to be 18, yes yes. I politely declined their invitation to Sugar which was just up from Loaf...

Fri eve- we had a free private karoake booth at TigerTiger, two mics and a tambourine, there was a button labelled Thirsty, not that we needed it, with the frequency of our "pod attendant" and the amount of tequila shots and "Rhode Island Iced Tea" that appeared throughout the event, then onto Label, then Slug and Lettuce then back to Label where I did the "running man"

We tumbled in at 2am, lots of water and bed. After breakfast, where A and S were disgustingly spritely (dam those under 25) we went shopping.

Sat eve - 7pm , a knock on the door and the girls burst in with a cake, happy birthday song and a waiter called Ricardo who they grabbed to help with the champagne.

A booked a fabulous Thai restaurant The Pacific, where my reaction to the price of the Sea Bass was perfectly captured by Juls.

Then out to the locks, Sloe Gin and champagne cocktails, then Deansgate. Then god knows what ever late license bar, where an old guy did some fancy footwork surrounded by a drunken cheering crowd. Then a bar down a lane and a lock in, but em, no booze, apparently you had to know the right people, obviously the group we were with were the wrong people, "Duke" told us it was ok to just go up and ask...we left and went back to the hotel where of course a group of irish people just happened to be enjoying a quiet chat in the bar.

I set off the hotel bar alarm trying to get a hold of some vodka. The staff told us to go to our rooms (did I imagine that they all stood with their arms pointing to the exit?) This was about 6am.

Sun 11.30am - Sore head, burning eyes, coffee, Resolve, water, packing, frantic wake up calls, running up and down stairs to return borrowed items, check out and then Starbucks where M suggested that groaning loudly helped to ease some of the pain.

When I got home, my parents decided to drop by to wish me well and we went out to a takeaway. T got out pink champagne while I opened my presents and actually managed to stay up til midnight

A perfect birthday- Thank you x