It is possible that this last birthday has thrown me for a loop a bit more than I’d care to admit. Well, not so much MY birthday, but Sister Dub’s has just pushed me right over the edge. Some how her joining me at, shall we say, a certain age has made it really real. Because my own birthday wasn’t enough.
The fact of the matter is that at this age I am totally, really, and truly an adult. One would think the marriage and the two beautiful children might have driven that point home, but nope.
It’s possible that at this certain age I may have had a little pre-mid-life crisis and gone blond. Ish. Blondish. It’s a word, spell check says so.
And you know what? I dig it! I’m going to stay blondish for a while. It’s just hair, right? And for now it makes me feel sparkly and happy…which is how I feel on the inside and how I want to look on the outside. I don’t know about you guys, but I swear on a stack of Seventeen Magazines that I was just 17 myself. But then my junior bridesmaid goes ahead and turns 18 this week. Eighteen. WTH? I still feel about 22…albeit smarter (let’s hope) so how do I go about making the outside match the inside without channeling Amy Poehler in Mean Girls and more like, just Amy Poehler? Because Amy Poehler kicks ass.
So yeah I feel and want to look happy, youthful, and sparkly but not…delusional. I’m not Forever 21 (although hello? I do get certain things there) but I am not Chicos yet. Ever. Whatever.
Yeah. So Blondish. It is happening people. And it’s fun.