- I don't think I 'act' 40.
- I haven't done everything that I've wanted to do.
- My bucket list consists of things like "wake up on time without running to the bathroom at 5:30 without having a toddler hanging off one leg and another child emerging from the living room wondering if I could help her find the batteries because they rolled under the couch" and other things like 'actually shave your legs without missing a spot or finding said spot when you're walking into work by the hair blowing in the breeze'.
- I'm not ready to get rid of my stupid ironic tee-shirts.
- I don't wanna eat prunes.
- I wanna splash in puddles if I want to, damnit.
- I wanna be able to like One Direction and sing along because I know the lyrics, double dog damnit.
- Waving sparklers should count as daily allotted exercise, okay?
- Ice cream is acceptable for breakfast, right?
Okay, I guess my point is that I have a hard time conforming to 'society's' idea of what a 40 year old woman should look and act like.
Thank god for my friends.
They are my voice of reason.
I've whined and bitched and pissed and moan about this birthday like no other and they've all come up with all of the reasons why I shouldn't hate it and maybe I should embrace all things that 40 is instead of what it isn't. They reminded me that we achieve things like inner grace and we've learned how to make peace with all of the demons we had in our teens and twenties. These beautiful voices of reason reminded me that I'm allowed to define who I am, what I do, how I react, and how I feel about everything in my world.
These women, near and faraway, reminded me that it's okay to want/need/do all of the above and still not get carded for booze because I look 'mature'. (Quit laughing, 'cause I know you are)
So for you, here's my *Hugs* and *kisses* courtesy of Mr. Bruno Mars:
I love you all, dearly. And look forward to laughing, drinking wine, and singing with you on Saturday night. Let's ring this thing in like it's 1999, bishes.