Birthday

It’s Earth Day  and my birthday.

The irony of April 22,   a day set aside for revering Mother Earth and while celebrating  the anniversary of  my birth isn’t lost on me or anyone who really knows me.   Considering the size of my carbon footprint,  it’s downright hilarious.

I’m 58.    My boobs  look like World War II era German hand grenades.    My butt is impersonating a church pew.    I found a long lost piece of jewelry betwixt one of my chins.   I have a suspicious mole and outbofnut are growing with two hairs and what looks like a small hand.   My stomach starts at my armpits, my arm fat undulates  like a stingray and other parts of my body I refuse to  look at.   The frightening  possibility  of turning to stone at viewing something so horrendous and traumatizing  is too great.  So, I avert my my gaze and avoid anything with a reflection.

And really, who needs a mirror when you have a blog.    Your reflection is one thing but a blog….providing you’re self involved enough, , allows you the self indulgence of seeing deep into your psyche.   That’s where the real Mesduxa lives.

Despite a butt that can  comfortably  seat a small congregation, I’m happy.  I don’t give numerology all that much credence, but I i seem to give better years when my  my chronological   age includes an odd and even number.    I fell madly in love for the first time at 12 in 1971.   I had a considerably good time in life at 19, 21 and 25 .     I began  a lucrative career at 36.   Retired  at 56 and  I started getting my shit together at 58.

I look forward to the next 364 days.

The future Mr. Kendrick be feeling the anticipatory tingle should, too

 

 

 

 

 

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