A Very Merry Un-Birthday to Me!

Tomorrow is the first day of my final year as a 20-something. Bleh. Do you think if I hide in the closet or just pretend it's not my birthday that it just won't come and I won't ever have to turn 30? Not that 30 is bad, but there is something about leaving your 20's that is totally and completely frightening to me. Almost paralyzing.

Maybe it's the blatant fact that I am no longer cool and I have to be an official grown-up. To me, that's cause enough to run and hide.

Jake took me to his boss' restaurant for the best sushi I have ever had in my life - seriously - THE BEST!!!! It's an Asian-Fusion restaurant in Arlington called Xouba. It's just off 157 in the building where Fox & Hound used to be.

While we were eating, a party of 25 or so people were seated near us. I'm a huge people watcher, so I was quick to take notice of the charismatic ladies in the party. All were over the age of 40, but none of them wanted to admit it, much less face it. They all had been 'augmented' (which I totally do not look down upon, but just because you have big fake boobs doesn't mean you have to dress like a stripper), they all were dressed from the Jr's section of the department store, and they were all completely absorbed in themselves and their appearances.

That's when it hit me. I am terrified of turning 30 because I want to be able to still dress cute and trendy without it being inappropriate for my age. I'm afraid of turning into a card-carrying frump. I am nothing less than a future version of these caddy, plastic women. I'm going to be one of those 40-something moms that still tries getting away with wearing the denim mini-skirts and Uggs thinking I look totally cute, all the while looking like a complete moron because I don't want to admit that I'm just too old to dress like the cool kids. *If any of you EVER catch me wearing a mini-skirt or Uggs, shoot me on the spot. That's an order.

Upon my epiphany there was only one thing I could do. Order dessert. My OWN dessert - no sharing.