Older

When I was a kid I could never understand why grown-ups were always wishing they were younger.  Being young meant people telling you what to do and having to go to bed early.  What was there to miss?  But all the adults I knew would complain on their birthdays about getting older.  So I figured there must be an age at which you stop wishing you were older and start wishing you were younger.

I think I know what that age is.  It’s 34.

I know people older than me are going to roll their eyes at this but yeah, I’ve been feeling old recently.  Old as in achey.  Old as in my hands don’t do what I tell them to do.  Old as in I realize I am no longer the target demographic of most advertising campaigns.

So for my birthday I did a couple things to help me feel younger.  I got my hair cut (finally!)  And I finished up this cute chevron twist dress (B4789) that I’ve been working on for the past month:

Can you see where the CF seam is?  Yeah, I’m pretty pleased about that.

Actually it turned out to be a lovely birthday.  My lab bros surprised me with a cookie and makeshift candle (see above).  David and I went out for a fabulous dinner.  And he gave me these bee-ooootiful roo-ish colored gloves for which I will now have to sew an accompanying leather jacket.


Ok maybe it’s not so bad being older.  I do wish I could still go to bed early though.