Party like it's 1999

Being a single thirty-something chick is a well worn cliche, and there's really little to be said that hasn't been covered already by the likes of Sex and the City (surprisingly accurate) et al. My parents have largely given up, I think, on ever seeing me married with kids (not that I have - a different story), and they've certainly given up on asking me about my "personal life" ever since, frustrated by their noseyness, I described SATC to them as a documentary rather than a work of fiction.

So, at the risk of treading well worn ground, here we go with some lifestyle observations (perhaps prompted by being a year older, if not wiser, on Monday).

The first is that the grass really is always greener. Many of my friends are now more or less happily married with kids. They have the stability that isn't a feature of my life. Of course, therefore, what they crave is my freedom. What this has led to is the VLP (Vicarious Living Programme). I roll up to see them, often with a dull hangover, and always with a selection of stories from the single side (wild nights in Tokyo fetish bars, unlikely encounters on planes and so on). They lap this up, whilst I play with the kids and marvel at their full fridges and other trappings of domestic bliss.

The trick to this, I've realised, with guidance from modern day gurus like Mariella Frostrup, older single female friend and smug marrieds who tell it how it is, is to truly enjoy what you have when you have it. Nothing is permanent or perfect.