I think Im turning 28 I think Im turning 28 I really think so

Hi there Chickabiddies

I hope you had a festive Thanksgiving or whatever it is you may or may not have celebrated based on your country of origin. My Thanksgiving was delicious and plentiful with leftovers. I'm still eating them, even though I read somewhere once that you are only suppose to leave leftovers in the fridge for like 3 days before throwing them away, which I think is complete bullshit and probably a good example of why we are slowly becoming the Uncle Rico of the planet. I could explain that further but every attempt I made to elaborate resulted in a 5 line run on sentence that developed into too heavy of a metaphor for this early in a blog post.

So my 28th birthday is coming up. And normally my coolness would not allow me to post about something like my birthday since I don't like getting attention for things unless it has to do with you complimenting my ability to joke about dead babies or the jewish in a charming way, but I decided to put my ego aside for 7 seconds and admit that growing older has provided me with a plethora of ideas and realizations that I wouldn't have been able to vocalize if you asked me about them even as little as 5 years ago. Yes, part of getting older is agreeing to a trial separation with the high metabolism I have grown to love for the past 25 years, not being able to drink an entire Boones Farm without getting a terrible headache the next morning, and being called Mam by everyone but the dude at Brueggers that only calls me Miss because he for some reason thinks hes ready for this jelly.  *Side Note* He's not. 

But those realizations are boring and I'm sure Sex in The City has already monopolized whatever wisdom I could have gleaned from those things. Plus I don't want to get sued by Kim Cattrall's bio-engineered six pack. I'm afraid it will crush me in the night and I don't have the mental capacity to come back from something like that, I just don't.

What I have discovered is that my getting older has really just become varying degrees of not giving a fuck. That's pretty much it. And it's awesome. And I wish I could have gotten older sooner to get to this stage of my life. A lucky few people are just born this way, but I think most of us have to grow into it.  Not giving a fuck is a railroad track that runs next to the river of being comfortable with who you are, and the older you get, the easier it becomes to find that track next to that river. Levar Burton taught me that. He's a great man. With a rainbow and a dream. And a metal banana clip over his eyes that for some reason equates to him being blind. The future is a terrifying place.

But in case you are wondering on the specifics, here is a list of things that I no longer give a fuck about, aka, a list of things that no longer give me anxiety since Ive gotten older:

1) What I'm wearing 

2) What you think about what I'm wearing

3) Pretending to care about obscure music

4) Crapfest

5) Not knowing what you are talking about

6) Walking into an unknown place 

7) Dog hair

8) Ironing 

9) Washing my car

10) Road rage / car dance parties by myself while in traffic

11) Trying to impress strangers

12) Not knowing what happened on The Bachelor/Biggest Loser/American Idol 

13) Pretending like I want to go out drinking after 5 pm. I dont.

14) Church

15) Going out of the house without makeup

16) People knowing that I'm a conspiracy theorist about pretty much everything. I'm wearing a tinfoil bodysuit as I type this. 

17) Ordering breakfast with a side of fries at Perkins even if the waitress asks if I have tapeworms. 

After reading this list, you have probably come to the conclusion that I have transformed into a slovenly, angry hermit. You'd be mostly right. But in actuality getting older has allowed me to become what I really am, and what I always have been deep down inside. A slovenly, angry hermit. Its a blessing, finally being able to let go of who you thought you were for who you actually are. And one that should be embraced, no matter how long it takes you to get there. 

So do not cry my fellow late 20 somethings. Embrace your birthday each year with the knowledge that you may be getting older, but at least you got to taste Ectocooler and those Cheetohs that were shaped like the giant Xs and Os. Thats got to count for something in life. 

Enjoy your Weekday

~Maria