35

Yes.
35
It hurts to say it aloud. How the hell did I get so f'in old?
Okay, so i'm not 35 yeat, although I am in my 35th year. I have two more months until I hit that birthday that I have dreaded since... 30.
The coolest thing happened the other day, though. My chiropractor was bragging that he's turning 30 in February, and he's finally gaining weight. He's my chiro and a friend, so I know he is always trying to gain weight. Bastard.
Anyway, I told him I turn 35 just a week or so after he turns 30.
He was shocked. I was happy!
He thought I was still in my (late) 20's.
But then, he must be full of shit. Aw, damn. Maybe he didn't really think I was still in my 20's.
Well, even if he didn't, he wouldn't be the first to stare in disbelief when i state my age.
I have two things going for me in the aging department:
1. I'm chubby. Chubby means fewer wrinkles on the face but lots of dimples on the ass and thighs. I look younger with my clothes on.
2. I have more acne at 35 than I ever had as a teenager. Acne=someone who is not 35. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me. Just when it all starts to clear up, I get another break out. Some days I just want to hide. I've started to wear make-up to diminish the redness...

So, maybe if I was thin and had clear skin, I would look older. I don't know that 1 & 2 are really all that great of a trade off. I think I could handle looking my age, if it meant I could fit in a size 4/6 again or if I could look in the mirror without seeing big red spots all over the place.

Oh, and I forgot: my favorite outfit is my navy hoodie, blue jeans and converse. Not really the kind of clothes the PTA moms around me wear, anyway. They like their twin sets, you know.