30 is the new Eff You

2009 will forever go down as the year I became obsessed with my looks.  The wrinkles, the fat, the spots, the skin of my yellow country teeth...  

My Bitches

30th Birthday of Champions!

And it wasn't until my friend CCCP's  30th birthday celebration that I put dos & dos together.

I myself turn 30 this year.  On June 8th 2009 I will be 30 years old.

30 years old never crossed my mind until now.  Until I started analyzing the lines by my eyes.  Until I started noticing the cellulite on the back of my thighs.  Until I saw a grey.  A mother trucking grey.

And now I am a self absorbed mess who buys French face creme and teeth whitening products.  I am a girl who now works out everyday and does yoga on Saturday and Sunday mornings even though I dragged my butt to the gym the previous 5 days.  I am the girl with freshly painted nails & toenails.  I am a vain mess.

I think I am having a 30 year crisis.

I am NOT the above mentioned girl.  I like to get dirty.  I like to wear holey rock shirts and torn jeans.  I like to wash my hair every now and then and I have always thought that dark circles were attractive on me.  I didn't give a damn about wrinkles, I was always proud that I smiled too much.  I swear like a Chef and I laugh loud.  Life has blessed me with many amazing and fantastic things and there is absolutely no way I should be acting like such a vain asshole.

But I am and I absolutely cannot stop.

Why is 30 doing this to me?  As I write I  am thinking about how much I do not care about 30 but I am so lying to myself.  I guess I just have to suck it up and wait it out, and/or spend ridiculous amounts of money on eye creams that are made with foreskin.  Yeah I said foreskin.


Well that's the last time I let the Chef read before posting.  I asked him what he thought and his reply was that I sounded 'whiny.'  Well DUH.  The point sir?