Wait...How Old Are You?

We went out last night to celebrate this whole "getting older" thing.

Coworker: "Wait...How old are you?!"
Me: "It really doesn't matter.  Say, did you watch that Dallas game last night?  Could you believe that ending?"
Coworker: "Do I look like I watch football? Nice try.  How old are you now?"


So yesterday was my birthday.
I turned 35.

Remember when you were back in high school and 35 seemed so...old?!  Well, I don't really feel old.  I still want to wear the 4" high heels, tell the dirty jokes that make people gasp, and drink a cheap beer because I actually prefer it over an expensive red wine on a random Thursday night.  But as I look at turning 35...there is a part of me that wonders if this is still acceptable behavior?

That said, it seems that the older I get the less value I put into what others think of me.  Honestly, I would never have been brave enough to even have a blog 5 years ago.  I would be far too concerned with the negative feedback that comes with putting yourself out there like this.  So there is a sense of freedom that comes with getting older.

So I figure at this rate, I'll be one of those grandmas that rocks leopard print, drops the occasional dirty word, and orders a vodka tonic at breakfast time without thinking twice.

On this birthday, I want to tell you thank you so, so much.  I appreciate you reading this little blog more than you know.

xo - this old chick


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