Thirty and Flirty and Thriving

Funny, remember that line from "13 going on 30" with Jennifer Garner-Affleck? Well, today I officially became 30; which is odd, because if I lived in France, I would’ve been 30 yesterday – so actually, even with all that talk about me wanting to move to Paris . . . well today, I’m really grateful I’m a US Citizen. But if I broke my arm today, I’d be back to wishing I was a France-ite, Franisian . . . ok, French again ;)

I’m not bummed about turning 30 or anything.

I have pretty good skin with relatively few wrinkles (I attribute this to never being a smoker and being a little bit chubby – fat people hardly ever have wrinkles on their face.) Also, I hardly have any gray hair – I say hardly any, because there are a few that pop up now and then; but I have so many other fabulous hairs to counter act the negative affects of a few renegades, that I’m not about to get all torn up about it.

I confided to my husband last night (and now I will confide in you – the internet. . . . the web . . that grants access to millions of people to read my thoughts and feelings . . . more appropriately the three of you, of those millions on the web, that actually read this blog . . . wait, is readership up to three yet?) . . . Well, I told him 30 is just odd because I thought I’d be more successful by now in the material realm.

Like, I’d thought I would have published a book by now (although the magazine columns do offset the burn a little), and I thought I would’ve climbed a little higher on the corporate ladder. . . but I do have a lot to be thankful for. . .

Like my frigging husband. . . he is my greatest accomplishment, though to be honest I don’t really have anything to do with how he turned out up to this point . . I mean we've only know each other 2 years. . . so I guess I'm really taking credit for something I ought to just be thanking my mother in law for. . .

On a separate note . . . Sex is a pretty big accomplishment . . . for a while there, I was FAST approaching 30-year old virgin status. . . glad to say we’ve crossed that threshold.

PS. I called my dad tonight to tell him “thanks for conceiving me.”

AND SPEAKING OF MY FABULOUS BIRTHDAY!!!!!
I got really good presents for my birthday. . . a few that I’d like to highlight:

• A super galactic ion hair straightener (sp?) from Danny . . . that normally is like $200 something . . . but he had his stylist buy it for me, so I am hoping it really wasn’t that much . . . because we will have to stop donating to charity for a good while . . . and by “donating to charity” I mean, I will have to start cooking dinner again. ;)
• Really neato flip flops that mold to your feet (a super thoughtful present since all of my flip flops are so worn out that wearing them is like walking on cement since they’re pretty much worn completely through
• He also sent me flowers at the office and had ppl emailing and calling me all day.
• But my favorite present (well besides the flowers at my office from him), are the “vegan society certified Earth Shoes” . . . they’re negative gravity or something . . . I don’t exactly know what it means besides the fact that they are supposed to help with alignment of your spine (aka proper chakra aligning goodness) and they’re made of vegan approved components (again, chakra aligning goodness).


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AND PS. HOLY FRIGGIN HELLO JORGEY! And it’s ok if you think healthcare is more accessible with HMOs. . . they might be. They’re just too bloody expensive!!!! But sooooo good to hear form you! Everyone, meet “Jorgey” . . . aka Ashli Jorgensen Storheim. . . everyone, meet Ash.

She was key in coining the phrase “choch” for the masses at Skyline highschool. . . don’t ask me why . . . her and Sarah Stohl Balmires just made the phrase have staying power, even if it was said long before SHS.

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PSS! I made Danny watch Flashdance last night . . . and then I proceeded to do my best Jennifer Beals impersonation . . . unfortunately, I was a little more “tommy boy’ maniac than super sexalicious appeal. . . good thing my husband loves my extra junk in the trunk. ;)


NAMASTE. . .

yours truly


Also, I am not a fan of Celine Dion. . . just so we get that straight. Not a fan. In case you were interested. . . not a real fan.