Something horrifying happened yesterday.
Warning: This story contains a reference to when I had Mono. I KNOW. I never shut up about it. You'd think it was the defining moment of my life. Granted, it was really bad and not everyone can say they had Mono on their honeymoon, which makes for a great but ultimately depressing story, and I'd only been an editorial assistant for a month at the time and I was convinced they were going to fire me, and also my pee looked like blood (too far?), but...okay, I'll shut up now.
I was talking to a woman and I said, "I had Mono in my twenties..."
IN MY TWENTIES.
Reader, I am still IN my twenties, for, like, three more WEEKS. Let's not rush things.
Basically, I always feel like I'm a year older as soon as we hit New Year's, since my birthday is only a few weeks after (Holla back, fellow Aquarians!). But that was the first time those words had passed my lips and it made me a little sad, I'm not going to lie.
Then later I went to the store with Curt and I didn't bring my purse because it is so annoying to have your purse on your shoulder shoved up over your winter coat, am I right, Ladies? I needed to buy a bottle of wine but they wouldn't let us because I didn't have my license even though CURT had his with him. And then I got really really testy and started muttering to myself about adding insult to injury, which means I'm starting to talk to myself in public.
Yesterday someone I know said, "GOD, it makes me feel old to know that you're so old."
Me too, brother. Me. Too.
Anyway, there is one bright spot in all of this, and that is that when I turn thirty, I'm going to get cheekbones!
Yep. See, way way back in 2002, when I had been a youthful, baby-faced twenty-year-old for all of five months, I was reading about Naomi Watts in People magazine's Most Beautiful issue and she said this, "I don't think I came into any attractiveness until I was in my late 20s. I had a moon face and my mum kept saying, 'Oh, your cheekbones will come,' and finally they arrived."
You can read the article here.
And I remember thinking to myself, "Oh good, that'll be my consolation prize for turning thirty. Maybe I'll finally get some visible bone structure up in this face."
The cheekbones have yet to make an appearance but I'm prit-tee sure that any day now I'm going to wake up and look like Naomi Watts and won't that be fun?
Right now I sort of hate twenty-year-old me.