John Mayer Asked Me Out, Now I'm Buying a Minivan
By MrsMuffinTop on June 21, 2013
Birthdays are interesting, aren't they? When we were children, we would look forward to them with such anticipation and excitement, we would count the days. As we got deeper into adulthood, when did that stop? 21, the last monumental birthday of youth, and official entry into maturity? It seems so, since 30 is the one that most people I know dread.
Personally, for me, I've never cared much about aging. I never had huge bashes, and didn't want that, either.
As I turned 35 yesterday, it should have been just any other birthday for me, like it normally is. Yet, two weeks ago, when I went in for my First Trimester Screening, the doctor told me something very shocking. I was now considered "advanced maternal age." In other words, "you're old, bitch." After the concept sunk in, I started to look back on my life, and how I had come to be pregnant in my mid-thirties, in what the medical world thinks is too far along in years to procreate.
One memory that stuck out and helped me through the echos in my brain of, "you're old, you're old, you're old...." was about five years ago, about a week before I found out I was pregnant the first time around. I was out on a girls night and my friends and I met John Mayer. That fucker asked me out. Yes, it's true. Before I was MrsMuffinTop, I was...not. I was someone who could attract and interest an international rock star! I said no, obviously, but man, that was a great story to tell back then. Now, it seems though, that I'm clinging to it more than ever. Where did the last five years go? Are my days of attracting weird, O-face singing rock stars gone?
I decided to see if I still had it. Ok, ok, this is not the brightest idea I've ever had, but I have a great excuse, on top of being called old in my mid-thirties. I'm way too hormonal and tired to think straight. That was a good enough reason to rationalize it for myself, so it's going to have to do for you, too. As I walked into the coffee shop this morning to get a hot beverage and start writing this blog post, I saw a guy waiting for his drink, around my age (he didn't have a cane, so I can't be so sure about that), and I smiled at him, the way I smiled at John Mayer not that long ago. Guess what happened? Read the rest of this post here
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