Early intervention is key.

My nearest and dearest peeps all know this about me: I have a M.A.J.O.R problem with aging. I do not like it. I do not like it at all. I cannot stand the thought of getting old. I cannot stand the thought of saggy (well, saggier) boobs. I hate wrinkles. I cringe when I find a gray hair... I may as well have found lice on my head. All of this old people's business makes me shudder. I don't understand how it was just yesterday that I turned 5, and I got a moo cow purse as one of the best gifts ever. I can't wrap my head around the fact that I didn't just turn 21, and it bugs the mess out of me that door guys (sometimes) don't ask me for my ID when I go into bars. How can this be?

It should come as no big surprise, then, that my birthday is not my friend. Of course, it hasn't always been this way. I used to like it... when there were important experiences to anticipate: double digits, driver's license, voting rights. Maybe it was my 25th birthday where things started to change. I'd just gotten married, and three short days before the 14th of July, my brand new husband fell off a ladder and earned himself one awful broken hip. Not to diminish the pain that he was in, but the whole incidence was a glaring sign of the changing times. I went from wahoo party girl (and I'm not gonna pretend that this completely disappeared) to an old married nurse. It was like a small chip in my youth... one that has grown to a serious crevasse... Ever since then, my birthdays have been like scary omens of old age. And, for some reason, annoyingly crappy things happen around my birthday. I won't go into detail, as I'm trying to work on a positive attitude and be thankful for the many blessings in my life, but literally every year, beginning about the middle to end of June, my luck kinda sucks, and the notion of getting old pokes me over and over.

But, every year I make a vow to myself: I will enjoy the age I am now because next year I'll be older. It seems obvious, right? However, for some ridiculous reason, it makes the current age better. I also make a promise to fight tooth and nail against growing old. T.O.O.T.H. and N.A.I.L. I will not go down without a fight. I will use every resource possible for protecting my vanity: botox, fillers, plastic surgery, supplements, exercise, hair dye... whatever it takes... no stone will be left unturned. This is my solemn oath to myself. Some of my friends tell me that I'm being superficial and preposterous. I should just grow old gracefully, they say. Well, this isn't some Oil of Olay commercial. That crap doesn't work. I won't judge them for their choices, so they should support me in mine... and they should get their tickets on the fountain of youth train before it's too far out of the station to catch that ride. Early intervention is key, people.

Happy birthday to me!