Let Her Eat Cake! or It's My Party and I'll Cry If I Want To (what with all the cake I'll be eating and all)
Tomorrow I will be exactly one year older than I am today and I’m okay with that. Really! I am! As long as I don’t wake up looking one year older. Too despicable to contemplate, by half! Actually, I am kind of looking forward to living life as a 44 year old being as 4 is one of my favorite numbers (I can’t have just one—it is empirically impossible) and has been since I was, erm, four, I believe (what can I say? It was a good year). I figure two fours have got to be better than one and being as four was so much fun, forty-four ought to be an absolute riot.
Then again, I could just be fooling myself. I could be about to sink into a pit of aged despair. I could be simply keeping a stiff upper lip, a feat that gets physically more difficult with each passing year. I could be lying through my teeth (what’s left of ‘em), pretending that I don’t care that I am way past the prime of my life and whizzing on towards the last few good years I have left only to hurtle into old age and eventual death.
Anyone depressed yet?
Me too!
So, cheer me up, you regular readers, you! Put your pretty (or not—just thinking of you fellas out there) faces on this blog. It’s fun, it’s easy and you don’t even have to have your own blog to do it (you don’t have to include your picture either if you don’t want to –you could be a whale or a shoe or a rott weiler ) but by doing it you could quite possibly save me from wallowing in the pond of desolation (I think that’s a Pilgrim’s Progress quote but don’t quote me on that because I am too lazy to look it up what with this getting-older-every-second thing I’ve got going) and give me a birthday howdy by following this blog.
(Does that sound too desperate? I think maybe it sounds too desperate. Am I desperate? I think that probably I am.) (Yeah, that would explain the lame, desperate plea.) (And all.)
Oh! And tell your friends!
Then again, I could just be fooling myself. I could be about to sink into a pit of aged despair. I could be simply keeping a stiff upper lip, a feat that gets physically more difficult with each passing year. I could be lying through my teeth (what’s left of ‘em), pretending that I don’t care that I am way past the prime of my life and whizzing on towards the last few good years I have left only to hurtle into old age and eventual death.
Anyone depressed yet?
Me too!
So, cheer me up, you regular readers, you! Put your pretty (or not—just thinking of you fellas out there) faces on this blog. It’s fun, it’s easy and you don’t even have to have your own blog to do it (you don’t have to include your picture either if you don’t want to –you could be a whale or a shoe or a rott weiler ) but by doing it you could quite possibly save me from wallowing in the pond of desolation (I think that’s a Pilgrim’s Progress quote but don’t quote me on that because I am too lazy to look it up what with this getting-older-every-second thing I’ve got going) and give me a birthday howdy by following this blog.
(Does that sound too desperate? I think maybe it sounds too desperate. Am I desperate? I think that probably I am.) (Yeah, that would explain the lame, desperate plea.) (And all.)
Oh! And tell your friends!
Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday dear me-eeee, and my twin sister, too!
This entry was posted
on Friday, September 26, 2008
at Friday, September 26, 2008
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my 44th birthday blog post
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