The last post before IT happens.
Not to make this post all about me…
Let’s start over.
How about that aging, ehh?
Well, the calendar and historic records say tomorrow marks the first day of the last year of my thirties.
PRACTICALLY THE WORST DAY OF MY LIFE.
Which causes me great distress and angst.
Little background… It was even a crisis for me to turn 20. I HATED turning 20. I was wise beyond my years at 19… I did not want to wave goodbye to the privilege of youth.
AND I STILL DON’T.
I fight with myself over this all the time. I read how women across the interwebzes embrace their age, their bodies.
NOT SO STINKIN’ MUCH.
I can’t. I try. I try. Yet…
2 honest things:
- I want to be younger
- I want to be thinner
- These are my biggest demons
As much as I try to be all multi-culturally-politoco-trendy about this stuff. But when it comes down to it I am shallow and
have varicose veins vain… I want to be the youngest at the party. And I want to be the skinny girl.
Which is a lot like wanting a unicorn for one’s birthday.
But I don’t want a unicorn.
I want to be young and skinny.
Am I talking in circles?
I hear that’s the first sign of being old… talking (and walking) in circles and whathaveyou.
Wait. Dogs walk in circles.
Aaanywho. Clearly, I am in distress.
But tomorrow is my 39th birthday. While I think that birthdays are great fun… the AGING part of birthdays is not.
Like grating your knuckle when grating cheese.
Aging. I hate it. BAH.
But I am thankful for presents. And also cake. That stuff lessens the pain and such. Presents and cake are like anesthesia for birthdays.
*send me presents*
*and anti-aging cream*
*Tip: using glitter helps distract from the visible effects of aging…*
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