So, not be all whiney and all. . .

. . .but getting older really sucks.

And that whole "growing old gracefully" phrase can cram it.

I will have another birthday on Saturday and it's making me all sad and pouty and judgmental of girls who are young and skinny and have not pushed three human beings out of their bodies and then they open their mouths and utter phrases like "OH M GEE!! I can not believe I'm going to be 25! I feel so old!" And that's when the normal, loving, non-psychotic side of me snaps. I can only take so much people. If they think they're old, then just give me the shady acres pamphlet now and get this whole charade over with.

I don't like this one bit. I'm going down kicking and screaming, and by kicking and screaming, I mean I will be that 90 year old woman shuffling to the beauty parlor in the old folks home to get my hair dyed until the day I pass on. Even if it takes me 3 hours to walk the 200 feet down the hall.

How is it fair that men get to keep looking better as they age? Hubby has some gray around the sides and it's really distinguished looking. I like that word. So. Not. Fair.

And men are so weird. Hubby is already rounding up his age and he doesn't turn 37 until July. JULY!! Why on earth would you make yourself any older than you absolutely have to be?! I mean maybe when I was sixteen but I have since then realized the error of my ways and would like to follow in the footsteps of my very wise grandmother who somehow has been turning 29 for 41 years. Amazing. Think I'll go that direction.

And if I have to have another birthday, stupid rotating earth, then I would like to be spoiled. So that I forget my elderly woes. Or at least hugged a lot. And I want the cake to say "Happy 29th birthday Sheila! You look soooooo young!" Yes that should do it.