i will not be your stinky bear, unless you admit that you are my butt pumpkin.
my bank fucked me out of $120.
just as i had gotten enough money to fix teh milk carton.
soooo.... alicia is switching banks. goodbye suntrust, you asshats.
dolsen's birthday (pending and current) has gotten me thinking. i'm about to be 20 soon. other than shawn's idle threat of breaking it off when i turn 20, it still leaves a bad feeling in my stomach.
i'm not scared of "becoming an adult", because i'm doing more right now than most people i know, regardless of age. i'm scared of getting old.
i'm fucking terrified of it. every so often i check to see if i can hold a pencil under my boobs (ha! i defy you gravity!), check to see if i'm getting crows feet, laugh lines, wiggle my thighs to see if the skin is losing it's elasticity, check for gray hair. for some odd reason i'm only getting a couple of grays in the back. not that i can complain, it's better than having it right in the front. and it's not like you can see it anyway.
i don't see any woman i know aging gracefully. it seems like they balloon, everything is stretched down, and their ass shrinks and starts coming out of the front. that's not a pretty future to look forward to.
i realize that i place way too much importance on aesthetics, and if i didn't, i could probably move past this and just accept that it's going to happen. but i can't just let it go. it's horribly vain of me, i know. i have no idea how i'm going to accept looking in the mirror in 30 years and not seeing me in there.
i don't want to look like a wet paper bag. :\