40 isn’t the new 20. is it?

For those of you keeping track, cause I’ve talked about here and here and here and now here, I turn 40 this weekend. It’s a big deal. It’s the new 20. And who doesn’t want to do their 20s over again. Me. Probably. Not really up for that. Except some it was fun. But not the whole graduating, finding a real job and real place to live and liking a boy and then not and trying to move to Seattle and then not and then trying back home and then not and then liking a boy and then not and then living in a city I hated, then not.

Nevermind. Let’s hope it’s not my 20s over again. But let’s hope it’s a whole helluva a lotta fun. (KIDS – you hear me? This is going to be fun. 40=FUN. Loosely translated into a word math problem means I’m tired of saying no, telling you to brush your teeth daily and feeding you every day. So, I’ll keep feeding you if you start listening and ummm, brushing your teeth without reminders. Please. And thank you. You have until Saturday to get your shit together!)

Here’s to 40! Which I’m turning this weekend. Have you heard? 4-0. Four-Zero. Me. A list of presents to follow later this week….you’re welcome!