I turn 40 on September 28.
I don’t look or act 40 (a canny combination of good genes and sustained immaturity), so when I reminded my Mum of this minor milestone, she looked shaken. I could see her doing the calculations in her head (unlike me, she can do this sans fingers). Her eyes darted as she desperately tried to verify my maths, hoping to find me out by a factor of ten or so (wouldn’t be the first time). Alas, on this occasion I was right.
I’m planning to celebrate the fact that the earth has rotated 364.25 x 40 = 14,570 times since I was born in a number of ways:
1. A family party at my parents’ place. Guests to include my husband, my parents, my two brothers, and their wives and kids (sadly for me, my sister is living in Minnesota with her husband and kids at the mo). The menu will be pizza, Pepsi Max, and Paddle Pops (chocolate). I’m looking for a Wonder Woman to lead us in party games, but she has to be Lynda Carter hot. After all, that was part of her hero quality when I was growing up – sure she saved the world, but she looked amazing doing it. (Check out the vodpod at the bottom of the sidebar to see her in action.) I’m still working on how I ask the party heroes company about the aesthetics of their Wonder Woman.
2. My friends are adamant I should have a party for them. This is great in theory, but it sounds like a lot of work for what is, essentially, a cosmological excuse to get presents. Still, presents are an excellent reason to do most things, so I might be swayed.
3. I have a small list of goals I’d like to reach by the time I turn 40. They’re nothing monumental, but if I don’t achieve them by this age, I fear I never will.
I’ll keep you posted on the celebrations and the goals.