Another year...

Well, another year of my life has gone by and I can honestly say that 31 was the best so far.   I would be interested to know if I have said that every year but I doubt it.    I had more fun last year than I can remember having including fantastic trips, fun nights out, great friendships and as always a pretty incredible family.   I think the maturity of friendships when you are in your 30's makes life more fun.  The drama is gone and friendships just seem easier.  Does that make sense?   I heard an interesting fact on the radio the other morning - the average girl considers them self old at 28 while the average male thinks he is old at 50.   I don't think I am old but I can definitely tell a difference in how my body handles things differently.   Hangovers hurt more than they use to (great song).  Sure, I feel old when I hear that you had to be born in 1990 to be 21 or when I get asked if we are having a 15 year high school reunion but for the most part - I don't feel old.  I certainly don't act old (did anyone see me on Saturday night?) and some might say (or have said) that I need to act a little more my age.   In my opinion, those people need to stop aging themselves and have a little more fun in their life.  I remember being told in my mid-twenties that your thirties are the best years and thought there was no way it could get better.  I was wrong.   Anyway, thanks for making 31 awesome and here's to 32.  So far, I have gone home sick, had the heaviest . of my life, and have asked a cat to be friends on Facebook.   Okay, okay - so maybe my 3 days of 32 are not quite that exciting yet (DB - you are the funniest cat in the world) but stay tuned because there are lots of things to come.   I have 4 potential set-ups which are great odds for at least one of them happening!  We will see...

Love you all!   

Before 10 a.m.

The other day a light came on in my car that said Service Engine Soon.  Soon???  All I can think is this must be serious - good thing it is under warranty and good thing my brother's friend that works there is hot.   So, I call the dealership and schedule a service and she gets me in the next day.   This really must be serious - it usually takes a week to schedule an appointment.  Anyway, I put on a tidge more make-up than normal and head the 30 miles out of my way first thing in the morning.  While I am sitting in the waiting room, the HOT friend walks by and sees me sitting there and inquires what I am doing back so soon (was just there for routine maintenance).   I tell him the problem and he immediately puts me on the VIP list and goes to tell them to hurry me along.   Within 5 minutes he comes back to say that my car should be out in no time and then proceeds to tell me the problem.   Apparently, if you don't screw on the gas cap tight enough, the check engine SOON light comes on.  MORON.   As if I don't already feel like a bumbling idiot in front of this guy, now I just want to bury my head in my hands and slither out of there.  Thankfully, he was gracious about it and did not make me feel ridiculous but still.   Here is my one defense on this - if this is such a common problem, why wouldn't the service appointment lady say, "Hey, check your gas cap before trying half away across town."   I am sure they all got a nice chuckle when I left.

So, I am still feeling quite stupid an hour later when I get to my office.  As I am walking into the building, a lady and co-worker see me with my hands full so they hold the elevator for me.   I was pretty far away at that point so of course I feel like I have to boot-scoot to get there because of their nice gesture.   When I walk in, the very large woman and her co-worker press floor 4 and then ask me what floor.  2.  She looks at her co-worker and "under her breath" says, "And you call me lazy."  WTF?   I have 8 things in my hands along with my 4-inch heels and you are going to call me lazy for not taking the stairs.  I call me smart.  I also guarantee you that you would NEVER take the long flight of stairs on your 82 smoke breaks a day if you worked on my floor.   Again in my defense, I take the stairs every time I can which means every time my hands are free so my clumsy-ass can hold on to the rail.   Should I tell her how many times I have sprained/torn/broken my ankle?   So much for her nice gesture.