Life

And I Look Like One Too

It was a cold and stormy Saturday night exactly exactly 43 years ago. Ok, no it wasn’t. It was a cold and stormy Saturday morning exactly 43 years ago. Sort of. It was cold, but not stormy. It was a cold and sunny Saturday morning exactly 43 years ago. Actually, I’m not sure if it was sunny. It may have been overcast, but not stormy. I don’t really know for sure because, even though I was there, I was only a few minutes old.

screaming infant screaming baby, crying infant, colicky baby, colic

While this isn’t my baby picture, the baby bears a striking resemblance to me as a baby. Somebody really should have let me know it was all downhill from there.

So let’s go with what I do know. It was a cold Saturday morning exactly 43 years ago. My father pulled up to the hospital shortly before 8 am. My mother was whisked off to the super-secret-no-husbands-allowed-in-case-they-see-stuff-that-they-shouldn’t-see delivery room. My father was given the mandatory 1,000-page admittance-slash-this-will-help-you-ignore-the-blood-curdling-screams form.

horror

On the upside, it’s not like my mom could use the old “I was in labour for 3 and a half months and nearly died because of you!” spiel.

Exactly 24-minutes and 3 questions into the form, a nurse walked up to my father and congratulated him on his bouncing baby girl. He, of course, let her know that he and his wife had only just arrived so the nurse was obviously mistaking him for some other father. The nurse laughed and told him there was no mistake. He had a baby girl.

Yes, I was born in 24 minutes. And no, superhero-like child-birthing powers are not hereditary. Dammit.

And, yes. Today is my birthday.

birthday cake

It’s kinda of sad when your family brings out the fire extinguisher at the same time as your birthday cake.

I’m cool with getting older. Especially since most people, actually all people, tell me I look easily 10 years younger. And act 30 years younger. Whatever that means.

So, no, I don’t mind getting older. I’m not one of those women who feels the overwhelming need to fight the aging process with every single fibre of my sagging, thickening, drooping, wrinkling, tired being.  Not at all.

I’m not one of those women who walks past perky 20-somethings and spitefully thinks of all the ways they will be ruined by time and pregnancies. The thought that the rose tattoo on Miss Perky’s boob will be long-stemmed before she can say “What do you mean no mini-skirts after 30?!” has NEVER crossed my mind. Ever.

flower, red rose, long-stemmed rose, passion

Yeah, those thorns are a real bitch.

I’ve certainly never considered getting work done. When men go through a mid-life crisis, they get fancy sports cars and 22-year old girlfriends secretaries. When women go through a mid-life crisis, they have breast implant surgery and facelifts so they can look like 22-year old girlfriends secretaries.

Not me, though. Without going into too many Details, the “girls” are more than aDequate. And since I don’t look my age, my face doesn’t need lifting. And although my tummy might appreciate a little tucking, I’m of the belief that my waistline should be reduced the good, old-fashioned way – by throwing up after every meal.

So I’m totally okay with getting old. Oh, fine. I’m mostly okay with getting old. I can hear you scoffing, you know. Alright. I’m sort of okay with getting old. Shut. Up.

Look, I’m not checking out plastic surgery prices or anything, okay?

But if you and 5,000 of your friends wanted to send me a dollar each for my birthday, I’m sure my tummy and I could find something to do with it.

Until then, I’m just going to drink. A lot.

woman with wine, wine bottle, drunk woman

Happy birthday to me                                                          Happy birthday to me                                                          I look like a middle-aged frumpy tired drunk                 And I drink like one too.

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  • Mikewj

    Three observations:

    1) The average woman lives to 78. You’re way past middle age.

    2) Margaret Thatcher was frumpy, and you’re no Margaret Thatcher. Meryl Streep’s not even considering making a movie about your life.

    3) You and the girls definitely look drunk.

    Happy fucking birthday, Nicky.

  • Mikewj

    P.S. — best tag ever. You’ve still got it.

  • About your observations:

    1) Thanks. Fuck.

    2) Thanks!

    3) Um, thanks?

    Thanks a fucking lot, Mike. 🙂

  • P.S. — Thanks!

  • Nicky, I was the last person to wish you happy 42nd birthday. I also wanted to be the first person to say, holy shit! I can’t believe you are 43! That’s soooo old! Holy fuck!
    And let me know what I have to look forward to in 7 months.
    (You don’t look a day over 32.)
    Happy Birthday!

  • Once again I am thrilled to note that all of the cool bloggers have birthdays in January and February (myself included, natch.) Aquarians RULE!

    Oh yeah, Happy Birthday!

  • About your observations:

    1) Thanks. Fuck.

    2) Thanks! But I just realized this means you’re probably not going to give me a dollar…

    3) Um…thanks?

    Thanks a fucking lot, Mike!

  • Oh yeah, baby! Aquarians do RULE! When was the last time anyone sang about the dawning of the age of Sagitarius, huh?

    Thanks CG!

  • You can look forward to sagging boobs. You’re welcome.

    Thanks Shawn!

  • Happy birthday, Nicky.  When I was your age, I didn’t look my age either.  Enjoy your day!!!!

  • Happy birthday Nicky. Remember you’re only as old as  your birth certificate, and how easy are they to forge?

  • Mikewj

    I’ll send you a dollar. I might even have a loonie or two I can send. What’s the address?

  • Mikewj

    Of course, you use the money to buy more booze and just tuck your tummy into a pair of high-rise pants. That’s what I do.

    Could use…discus won’t let me edit

  • Drink up baby and enjoy the ride!

  • You are a sparkling flower of youth.  Believe it or not, I looked better at 45 than I looked at 25.    You still look 25, so hush!  And tummy tucks hurt.  Forget that one.  We certainly don’t need more boobs either.  You aren’t getting older, you’re getting  better.  Shoot, I’m still getting better too!  

  • Happy Birthday, my favorite girl in the world!  (I know.  Michael will get jealous.)

  • I could. But I won’t.

  • Thank you Linda! It’s been pretty good so far 🙂

  • Thanks HS! As for how easy they are to forge… it depends on how drunk I am 🙂

  • Thanks God!

  • Well, considering I had a month-old baby when I turned 25 and had put on close to 50 pounds, I can easily say I look better now than I did then! 🙂

    I like to think I’m aging like a fine cheese.

  • Thanks, hon! So what if he’s jealous… let him eat cake!

  • “Happy birthday to you” etc etc.  You know the song, right?  You’re not gonna make me sing the whole damn thing, are you? You’re just gonna keep on drinking, right?

  • I had a 3 year old baby, and a 3 month old baby when I turned 25 so I can relate.  I gained 28 pounds with my first child and 32 with my 2nd.  In the old days, they wanted you to “watch your diet”.  You aren’t aging like fine cheese, my little flower.  You aren’t aging at all!

  • I had a 3 year old baby, and a 3 month old baby when I turned 25 so I can relate.  I gained 28 pounds with my first child and 32 with my 2nd.  In the old days, they wanted you to “watch your diet”.  You aren’t aging like fine cheese, my little flower.  You aren’t aging at all!

  • SWEET!!!  Happy Happy Birthday!!!!  I know it wasn’t you… but the scrunchy baby was cute!  Hope you had an awesome day full of wine, beer and cheese!

  • *hic* ‘eggshzactly Pinky. 🙂

  • Thanks Katherine! I did have wine, no beer, and lots of cheese… it was awesome! 🙂

  • Happy Birthday!  43!   You’re a puppy!    And the 40s rock.  One of the best decades ever.   Almost as good as “Don’t-Fuck-With-Me-50s” and “Suck-On-This-Asshole 60s.”    Believe me.  You have some wonderful years to look forward to.   For now, may all your birthday wishes come true, my adorable friend.   Big hugs!

  • And August! Leo’s are awesome.

  • Find Cotswold cheese.

  • Find Cotswold cheese.

  • Hyvää syntymäpäivää, gorgeous!! Your birthday banana is in the mail! (Pretending it’s still your birthday and I didn’t miss it by a day as the lousy friend I am.)

  • NOT ACTUALLY god!  You’re going to get me in trouble.  Do you know the fine for impersonating a deity?  Seriously, do you know?  I bet it’s high…

  • Oh, Lemmikki! You have such an incomprehensible way with words 🙂

    Thank you, beautiful!

  • Well, I’m late for the party yet again. So Happy Belated Birthday. Maybe by now you’ve sobered up enough to read your comments. I’ve been gone from the blogs too long if you’ve turned 43. I think the last reading I had you must have been in your teens – or at least acting that way!! Happy 43 to you!!

  • Laughingmom! I’ve missed you!! Thank you for the birthday wishes. And don’t worry, I’ve turned 43 but I haven’t stopped acting like a teen 🙂

  • Don’t worry so much! Sheesh. *You’re* not pretending to be God, *I’m* pretending that you’re God. *I’ll* be the one going to Hell, and that was going to happen even before I called you God 🙂

  • HAPPY BIRTHDAY NICKY!! I love you sofa king much!

  • So how drunk are you now at this point? That’s what I want to know.

    Oh, and happy belated birthday. Hope you can stand now. 😉

  • How did I miss this post?  Happy Birthday for Wednesday. Mine was Tuesday, making me a day older than you…….. OK, OK! Plus a few years 🙂

  • Thank you, sweet thing! I love you too!! xoxoxo

  • Lesh jush shay I’m shtill shelebrayting. Alsho? Ish better on th’ floor. 🙂

  • Thank you Babs! Hope you had a great one too 🙂

  • Anonymous

    Belated happy b-day!

  • Uh, yeah. Yeah Shawn Leo’s are awesome, too. *Gives Nicky a knowing wink*

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