Another Year Older

It's weird being 33. 

People call me an adult.  This guy I live with calls me his wife.  A little girl with a machine gun laugh calls me Mommy. 

When did this all happen?  When did I stop knowing who half the people on the red carpet are?  When did I notice the first fine line beneath my eye?  When did I get the overwhelming desire to tackle every high school boy with their stupid blown forward Justin Bieber looking hair do and shave them bald? When did I stop getting carded? When did the first grey pop out of my dark hair - just screaming to me "HAHAHAHAHA! YOU'RE OLD".  Actually I was 23 when I discovered my first grey hair - you but still the beginning of the long draining spin cycle of aging. 

Unfortunately, not many people got the memo about my birthday.  I still went to work and no one even pulled over to get out of my way.  I sat in my office and nobody delivered me a delicious lunch.  Nobody took my picture as I drudged through a snowy sidewalk to my house.  I really need to hire a better publicist for next year.

At least the husband and the daughter got the word.  A yummy dinner and a 4 year old serenading me with "Happy Birthday" with my favorite - an ice cream cake.  

(note: This is not my actual birthday cake.  James does know better)

Here's to being 33! Cheers!