Terrible News

I. Am. Old.

Turned fortyfuckingNINE yesterday. I mean, there’s no way around the fact that that’s not young. How did this happen?? I swear I was a youthful and sassy 39 not that long ago.

Even worse, no amount of diet and exercise and grooming can hide the fact that I am not young anymore. As part of my bday celebration, I did a girls weekend in NYC. Much prep went into it. I waxed all the body parts and shaved those that I didn’t wax (*nods at finger knuckles and toe knuckles*) I planned (read: did the purchase/return cycle so much that the Frug’s head is going to spin around) outfits. I had fresh highlights, a haircut, I even tinted my brows!

Oh, and for my big Saturday night out, we had the Glam Squad come to do blowouts and makeup!

Result?

Middle aged soccer mom.

*sighs*

Actually, according to the sainted Ashlee, I looked like a “middle aged gym teacher“…which is much, much better, right?

*sighs*

I mean, if I can’t groom and retail my way to a youthful glow, WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?

Accept it?

No.

Hell no.

HHHHHEEEEELLLLLLLLPPPPPPP MMMMEEEEEE!

 

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