Thirty Friggin’ Five

Thirty Friggin’ Five

It’s my 35th birthday today, and it wasn’t bad. I didn’t turn suddenly into a desperate housewife who had to do the gardener or anything, and I managed not to turn this day into my 6th anniversary of my 29th birthday. H.E. didn’t leave me for a younger woman, though he did admit to me that he lusted over a 34-year-old woman yesterday. He’s so totally over it now.

I got everything I wanted today. Love. Money. Power.

I know what you’re thinking. Love and money ought to be pretty obvious, right? But power? Hey, I can’t play on the computer without electricity. Power is very important.

I also received a nice comment from someone asking permission to use my photos—not the first person to do so, but nevertheless remarkable because of the way she signed her note, with OCD after her name. When I asked H.E. what it meant he said, “Order of something something. She’s a nun.”

Not a twitchy nun, he assured me in his own way. Because he knew what my first thought had been.

I got many well wishes from many people, and they have really made my day. My thanks to all of you. I had a nice dinner at a nice restaurant and actually had a dessert all to myself, and I got to do anything the heck I wanted—never mind that I actually wanted to vacuum the house a little and work on a cover. I even had cake, a cute little cupcake with no frosting, just a little something to nibble on in order to leave a few crumbs on my newly vacuumed floor. No parties or anything—I’m really not into parties—but I got to do everything, and I’ve been very happy.

That’s all that matters.

Now, … I say we all sign a petition to make 35 the new 18. After that, the entire day will be perfect.

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8 thoughts on “Thirty Friggin’ Five”

  1. A shoeless nun, by the sound of it.

    HAPPY BIRTHDAY! (And nary a hint when we were exchanging PackRat messages. You should have given me a hint!) May the future hold flourishing cornfields, vaults filled with gold coins, enough electricity to fuel whatever Facebook addictions may arise and, of course, the kind of love that won’t yell at you when you’ve spent far too much time on the computer. Ahem. I’m glad you had a great day.

  4. I am glad that you are very happy. That’s all a mother could ask for. I feel really blessed to have healthy offsprings. If they’re happy and secured, is icing on my cake.

    Hope you’re enjoying whatever it is you got you for my gift.

  7. Happy Really Belated Birthday!
    And just so you know…I had an art teacher in high school that I really respected and when I turned eighteen he said, “You only have seventeen years to go.”

    “WHAT?”

    “That’s when a woman becomes sexy, you’re half way there.”

    Obviously, it could have been pervy but since I’d seen his sketchbook and the amazing faces of women he’d drawn, I agreed…and now when I look at women, I age them as how close they are to turning sexy…

    And honey, thirty-five is just the starting point…it gets better:)

    Hugs
    Roxy

  8. Thanks, Roxy! 🙂

    Someone once told me that 30-40 is the best and most fun decade for women. So far, I find it’s true!

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