The night before birthday and-
I'm turning 35 tomorrow. 11:58 PM. Which means I tend to extend the celebration into April 7th, since it was so close to midnight and they were busy keeping me alive with the "extreme pre-term" deal.
35, huh? Well.
You know what? I don't even know if it matters. I'm still short, nobody thinks I'm even 30, I barely feel thirty-anything. Maybe that will change the more I approach 40, but right now, it's whatever. However, I will be eternally thankful I started all that skin care stuff when I did. My skin still looks good - despite body dysmorphia insisting that I am covered in ugly blemishes. My profile photos all have me with full makeup, but my brain still sees the grossness beneath. Literally no matter what people tell me. *sighing*
I'm watching "Too Cute: Kittens" right now, before I sleep. Turkish Van, European Burmese, Persians. Eeep, they are darling; especially the Turkish Van babies. They all are white with black giant dots on their backs and heads. Like cow cats - hey, like Luna. I think Luna is actually watching, from her spot on the back of the couch. Every time a wee kitten cries, she looks up and stares at the television.
I've gotten offers from Facebook friends to buy me birthday gifts, which is awesomely sweet. I gave forth links to Etsy products, and I was still like, "For real? You are serious in wanting to buy these for me? Dude." They say they will be late and apologized, and I was like, whatever, I don't care; even if I ordered them myself it would be very belated. I never expect these things.
Calliope has been sweet even in fierce play. This kitten constantly amazes me. She is insanely mellow and tolerant and unfazed by very few things. I have kissed all her paws and her nose and her belly and she just purred at me. Well, then.
I have a baby migraine. I just threw codeine and baclofen and MSM at it.
35, huh? Well.
You know what? I don't even know if it matters. I'm still short, nobody thinks I'm even 30, I barely feel thirty-anything. Maybe that will change the more I approach 40, but right now, it's whatever. However, I will be eternally thankful I started all that skin care stuff when I did. My skin still looks good - despite body dysmorphia insisting that I am covered in ugly blemishes. My profile photos all have me with full makeup, but my brain still sees the grossness beneath. Literally no matter what people tell me. *sighing*
I'm watching "Too Cute: Kittens" right now, before I sleep. Turkish Van, European Burmese, Persians. Eeep, they are darling; especially the Turkish Van babies. They all are white with black giant dots on their backs and heads. Like cow cats - hey, like Luna. I think Luna is actually watching, from her spot on the back of the couch. Every time a wee kitten cries, she looks up and stares at the television.
I've gotten offers from Facebook friends to buy me birthday gifts, which is awesomely sweet. I gave forth links to Etsy products, and I was still like, "For real? You are serious in wanting to buy these for me? Dude." They say they will be late and apologized, and I was like, whatever, I don't care; even if I ordered them myself it would be very belated. I never expect these things.
Calliope has been sweet even in fierce play. This kitten constantly amazes me. She is insanely mellow and tolerant and unfazed by very few things. I have kissed all her paws and her nose and her belly and she just purred at me. Well, then.
I have a baby migraine. I just threw codeine and baclofen and MSM at it.