youth in revolt

getting old sucks. and as daddy always says, when i complain about it, "hang on, it'll get worse."

awesome.

complaint #1: wonky hip. i do not remember this being a problem until college, when i realized it felt weird to sit indian style. my right leg does not turn out all the way and sometimes feels like it's going to pop out of place when i run more than half a mile. but i hate running, so this sometimes works in my hip's favor.

complaint #2: mybackaches. mybackaches when i stand up washing dishes. mybackaches when i do pilates too much. mybackaches when i lean over to bathe the roxy. mybackaches when i stay in one position too long and then move to another. i am in constant need of a chiropractor and/or a good massage.

complaint #3: my inability to stop inexplicably saving glass jars. i'm turning into my mother.

complaint #4: gray. hair. s. they're multiplying. oh, and random other hairs in socially inappropriate places, like the end of my chin. oddly enough, my hair is getting darker, on its own. everyone keeps asking me if i've colored it - not since july 4th. think it may have to do with the vitamins? does iron turn your hair darker? i have no idea.

complaint #5: adult acne. this sucks. at this moment, i not only have multiple small pimples on my face, but also a big mean monster zit inside my ear. it hurts. a lot. it hurts to smile. and i have to grit my teeth every time i try to pop it because 1) it is impossible and 2) it will throb for 30 minutes afterwards. an ear pimple reduces me to tears, and i'm supposed to be able to give birth?

also, what are these light brown spots on my face?

complaint #6: metabolism = FAIL. i can still fit in my clothes, but don't always feel great in them. it's like russian roulette every morning. ice cream is my biggest enemy, and i really hate running. it seems like working out is set on devouring what little personal time i have every day. and you'd think at this point, i'd have learned that eating like crap all weekend and not working out doesn't make a happy monday.

complaint #7: i can have informed conversations with my grandmother about the efficacy of different laxatives.

complaint #8: i can no longer drink whiskey. not sure that this really counts as a complaint, per se, but i don't like being told what to do.