tomorrow is my birthday

I'll be thirty again. How do I do it? Well, virtue, clean living, and a pure heart.

No.

Isn't it funny, how easy it is to start worrying about this when you get to a certain age? In my twenties, I swore I was not going to be one of those women who got all coy about her age. I also wasn't going to give a shit about my wrinkles. But here I'm teetering on the edge of my thirty-seventh year, and an hour ago one of my dance class friends (who's been doing esthetician stuff lately) mentioned that I wasn't aging too badly, if you didn't count the sun damage she was seeing around my eyes. And what did I do? I went straight to Walgreen's and bought thirty bucks worth of SPF 30 sunblock.

And a candy bar.

I really need to pull my act together a little more. There's a longer post about that, where I muse on where I am at this point in my life blah blah, but I have some work I need to do before I clean myself up and go carouse with my friends, all of whom will be honest with me about my love life and lie about my crow's feet. Which is the right combination, don't you think?