“You don’t even count as a person until you’re 30.” –Audrey Binkowski
It’s not that I am going to be thirty, per say.
I mean yes, in two days, I will be thirty. No longer twenty anything. Thirty.
Every birthday from hence fourth will only bring me another, larger, thirty something number, that is a slippery slope to the forty something numbers, and them, boom, I’m my mom’s age and I still don’t even know what the fuck a 401k is.
The thing is, ever since I turned 25, birthdays have been a source of emotional turmoil for me. It’s not the number. It’s the physical act of aging. It’s so different for guys. They start out as gawky, ill-dressed, emotionally stunted apes, and then with time, and the developed need to continue to have sex with things, they become groomed, well adjusted members of society, who only get more rugged and hot as they age.
I submit to the jury:
I think I’ve made my point.
I eaten a days worth of my feelings and it’s not even 11am. A bag of cold leftover Easter ham. Three deviled eggs. A fist full of candy. Two cinnamon rolls. Chips and left over Mexi dip. I’m just going to stop right there, I’m embarrassing myself.
There is so much I wanted to do before I turned 30. I thought maybe I’d have lost all my baby weight. Written a few books, sold a sitcom. Been able to pull off a romper, or at least a nice pair of harem pants.
But now, when I shop for cheap jeans at H&M they ask me what size my daughter is and if I need a gift receipt. I go into Banana Republic and they ask me if I want to sign up for the modest and professional asexual button up shirt of the month email. I walk past the pretzel stand and they know me by name and tell me they got in the hot mustard I’ve been asking for, ok we’re losing focus.
My point is, I fear parts of me are drooping, wrinkling and puffy, and the further I get from 18, the harder it is to fix these things without extensive surgery, and I am allergic to anesthesia and despise the thought of people seeing me naked when I am not alert enough to suck in my stomach.
Though I totally love catheters, which sounds weird, but personally, I think not getting up to pee is the greatest invention ever. I’d put one in all my kids if my hands weren’t so shaky on account of the twelve Diet Cokes I drink each morning.
I’m closing a lot of doors, and sure, a lot more are opening, but it’s still a sad, hormonal process for me. We’re done having kids. My twenties are over. I can’t eat broccoli anymore on account of the gas.
I’ve decided to fill my remaining time on this Earth with things I absolutely love and things I have always wanted to try.
And over the next few days, I want to share some of them with you.
First up, Pajama Jeans.
You’ve seen the commercials, you’ve heard the buzz, but can you really believe the hype? Yes. Yes you can.
Because they are jeans made of FUCKING PAJAMAS.
Confession: When I was a teenager, I was so desperate for the perfect fitting pair of jeans, the night before school, I would go to sleep in a wet pair of jeans, so they would dry over night, stretched out to fit perfectly.
If pajama jeans had existed back then, I would have had way less yeast infections and chest colds.
I love Pajama Jeans, because they are like yoga pants that you can wear to fancy restaurants without people thinking you have given up on things that button and have zippers.
Jokes on you, Asian Buffet hostess, I may look like I’m wearing fitted pants, but these bitches have a drawstring, and I’m about to make you lose your shirt in eggrolls and sesame pork.
Plus, even if you make your husband take a picture of you in the pouring rain, you can roll up the cuffs and they still look adorable.
I want you to look adorable, too. And, since it’s almost my birthday, and zippers and buttons are for elitists, I’m going to give away one pair of Pajama Jeans!
All you have to do is leave me a comment.
This giveaway runs today only, ending tonight at 12am EST. One (1) winner will be randomly selected, and the prize delivered to them upon confirmation of winning within 24 hours. You may leave as many comments as you want with a valid email address.