352 Months Old

Even though I have an amazing husband and a great life with him, I hate Valentine’s Day.  The romantic part of the day was ruined years ago.  My grandmother (Oma) died on 14 February 2003 after a long courageous battle with ovarian cancer (she made chemo look easy); we were close, so it made it all the more hard, especially when I couldn’t travel to her funeral.  The same night, my boyfriend at the time blew off a candlelit romantic champagne night with me for watching the movie “Fight Club” and hanging out in the dorm with his co-worker: a beautiful full-busted blonde.  He would eventually leave me for her, but at the time I was so beyond myself lost in the boyfriend….well, that’s another story for another time.

I was single for a lot of them and I stopped caring.  I got flowers once from the guy I was dating back in Illinois, but that was just a mere blip on my romantic radar.  And not a very good blip at that.

The General treats me so well the other 364 days of the year (he’s my sugar daddy — he brings me random chocolate throughout the year) and we do so much together and for each other, this just seems like a lame attempt of appeasement.

Exactly my point.  I put this holiday in the same category as Arbor Day, Casmir Pulaski Day (What’s that?  You didn’t attend public school in Illinois?  Grab a pierogi and check the link.), Kwanzaa, Secretary’s Day and Flag Day — holidays I don’t celebrate.  I would embrace it more if it was a holiday that meant getting the day off.  Or even better, time and a half.  Otherwise, meh.

Because of our crazy schedules, I haven’t seen The General in days.  We found ourselves both off this Tuesday, so we decided to out to dinner.  I blame my supervisor on the proximity to Valentine’s Day.  Through some random Arby’s-at-midnight conversation, we figured out that today, 15  Feb, I am 352 months old.  I always find it amusing when people refer to their kids ages in months when they’re clearly over a year old.  So I decided to be equally amusing and see how many months old I was.  Tonight is a birthday dinner of sorts.

Speaking of getting older, I do not find Justin Bieber attractive nor do I like his music.  I liked him on SNL and I think he’s quite talented, but as 352 month old woman, I just don’t see what the big deal about him is.  I suddenly feel like Don Draper on Mad Men when he talks about taking his daughter to a Beatles concert and he’s all ho-hum about it.  I don’t like sugary pop music, it grates on my nerves; maybe if Mr. Bieber released a song that was written in a minor key I would like it more.  I love a good dirge.  I also don’t find him attractive – he’s cute in the way a newborn baby is cute, not cute as in, “Take me now and let me bear your children.”  Maybe it’s my love for Led Zeppelin….or maybe I am just getting old to the point of where I roll my eyes at teen sensations.

I’m sporting a few gray eyebrow hairs – like white as snow gray.  The General laughs at me.  Then again, he’s 132.5 months older than me.


One thought on “352 Months Old

  1. Pingback: Justin time for Xmas « stories from the waves

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