Thirty Five is the New Twenty Seven

The problem with turning thirty-five years old is that it's the year everyone starts to say, "Ooh. Well, you don't LOOK THIRTY-FIVE" in this sort of patronizing, conciliatory way when they say "Happy birthday," and ask how old you are. Oh, man, I hate that. It's particularly annoying coming from twenty somethings. I just want to smack them. You know, the twenty somethings who are always saying things like, "I'm dating AN OLDER MAN," and you find out the guy is thirty-one and the twenty something is twenty-five.

They always use actors who are way older than thirty-five to play a thirty-five year old on TV, so people think that real people who are thirty-five look younger than thirty-five. Anyway, I'm healthy, I wear sunscreen, I exercise and I have melanin, so I'm hardly spackling my wrinkles with silicone line filler and hoisting my boobs off the ground. Actually, the only sign I've seen that I'm aging is that I have a few gray hairs. Now that's weird. My gray hairs are totally different from my regular dark brown hair... the brown hair is pliable and shiny and each strand is very fine, but the gray hairs are very thick and kind of wiry. It's pretty gross, actually. I went so far as to pull out the couple of gray hairs that lie along my part. The rest of them, I just leave alone.

All in all I'm dealing with the thirty-five thing pretty well, I think. So far.

I really think thirty-five is the new twenty-seven. I think I should put that on a tee shirt.