OK so I suppose I can't ignore it any longer. I am 49 years old. I l be 50 years old this December. Ouch. I have officially exceeded the expiration date of petrified duck eggs (sorry, a little culinary humor there). Mind you, I am not ashamed of my age. In fact, I love how I have felt all throughout my 40s, and my older sister tells me that my 50s will be just as much fun. When I hit 40, that little girl inside of me, the one who was always worried about saying the right thing and not offending anyone, died. In her place, like a phoenix rising from the ashes, appeared this self-confident, self-aware woman who said exactly what was on her mind. This woman seemed to become wise, funny and just plain smarter overnight. She loves more fiercely, and she dislikes just as fiercely. She feels joy to the nth power, and she feels wracking sadness. But mostly what she feels is alive.
So bring it on 50. You and I should have a good time.
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