Oldest Man Dies

Color me shocked.

It seems that about once a month, these 'Oldest Men' and 'Oldest Women' are kicking the bucket throughout the world. Something must be done! It's an epidemic!

What a dubious position 'Oldest' is, as you wait for someone to die in front of you so you can be crowned, only to lose the title yourself fairly quickly. And I'm sure every old person looks forward to being asked exactly how they managed to live that long.

(By not dying!)

Since Luke's birth, death has been on my mind a lot more. I'm not a big fan of this change in thought patterns, and I try to stifle the thoughts of death that creep in. I also face this year a major change in numerical definition - namely, I turn 30. In theory, the idea of turning thirty doesn't bother me, but the actuality is a different story. Mostly, though, it's disillusionment with myself and ideas I associate with 30 that are causing me problems.

For one, I still get pimples every month. This sucks major donkey ass. If we can arrange for all my pimples to magically disappear on the day I hit Three-Oh, I'd be okay with turning thirty.

Second, I haven't found a good hairstyle. Admittedly, I experiment with this less than I could to find a functional hairstyle, but that's why I'm not ready to turn thirty. I need another few years to work on this.

Third, I weigh about the same as I did when I graduated from high school. I'm supposed to be THINNER finally and lose this weight once and for all. I can't even blame it on the baby.

Harumph.