Old and Busted

Well, tomorrow is July 26th, which is my birthday, and this year, I'm turning 30...which is quite a milestone for us ladies. By now, I should have gotten married, birthed a baby or two and have set up house someplace. And I should have a few pairs of Mom jeans to round it all out.

Yeah, so none of that has happened, and I'm okay with it...well, most of it. I sure the fuck don't need any kids, the whole idea is repugnent to me to be honest with you. Nothing that big needs to be coming out of my cookie place, and I certainly have no desire to be strapped into a huge mortgage, so Dream House Bogda isn't out of the box either. But, I really thought I would be married by now, or at least be with the guy who I want to be married to. And, for a long time, I thought I had found that dude, but after 6 and a half years of dating, he passed on the opportunity to take me off the market, so I'm no where close to finding Mr. Right. And damned if that ain't depressing. I mean, I'm pretty rad. I'm smart, funny, cute, and I can make chicken soup from a chicken, what more do you fuckers want from me? Other than gigantic, football-sized jugs, cause that ain't gonna happen.

So, all in all, Bogda is less than super-chuffed about this upcoming event. In less than 7 hours, the flower of my youth will be cruely plucked, and I will go from new hottness to old and busted. Which blows. I need to get laid.