Dear Twenty Somethings...or for that matter Dear Teenagers:
Yes, this is what 36 1/2 years of living looks like. Do not look at me like I have two heads or just dropped the F bomb in class. I am becoming accustomed to your raised eyebrows and dropped jaws when someone who is still young enough to ask others how old they are pops the deadly question. I am resigned to the fallout that occurs to all other college students within hearing. Thirty six is great, I hear forty is even better. All my pieces and parts still work as good as yours, some even work better, although out of politeness I shall not name them here. I did not have my babies when I was still a baby myself, 36 explains the nine and seven year old, don't you think? Please don't ask me to get out my driver's licence. Really? Have you ever heard of anyone lying to make themselves older???!!!! Thirty-six is just that, a number. You are as young as the body God gave you and the sense you have to treat her gently. So remember me on the eve of YOUR thirtieth birthday. Don't buy black balloons. Thirty is no occasion for tears or fears. Thirty is wonderful. It's like getting all the perks of being twenty but without being quite so, ahem, stupid.