I am older than dirt, and feel that way sometimes. Sometimes I'm twelve. Or twenty-two. Forty. Forty was a good year.

H and I knew we were meant for each other after we'd been dating awhile and discovered that between us we had ALL the Bill Cosby albums, to date. I did Chickenheart as my drama mid-term one year. H and I were just threatening each other with chocolate cake and grapefruit for breakfast last week. And tonight StY did a bit from the dentist sketch, "Ibe hobe you are sabisfibied!"

The summer our sons were 14 and 15, they discovered the Cosby LPs, all of them, when we reorged the media storage. They knew him from Fat Albert and the Huxtables, and from the I Spy reruns, so they played the albums. And looked at us with wide eyes of discovery. "Half the stuff you guys say came off these albums!" Yes, and your point? Don't mess about when you have perfectly good dialog, right?

After having gone through all the albums and incorporating even more Cosbyisms into their vernacular, their friends started asking about the new phrases. Many nights that summer we had 12 or 15 sleeping bags on the deck outside, Cosby talking, their chuckles and giggles growing less and less frequent as they drifted off to sleep. "...nine HUNdred cop cars!"

And I was born with the soul of a 45-year-old murder police. In the body of a damaged hummel figurine. They do not write forbidden love epics about that shit.

Honey, this is the internet. They probably write forbidden love epics about that shit WITH NINJA MERMAID BOYBAND MEMBERS. And carebears.

Hi there, my people. It is 5.05pm, and I've been having parent-teacher meetings straight since 2.30pm. Now I'm twiddling my thumbs for half an hour or so, until my last person shows.

My kids?

Made. Of. Awesome.

Shir, you can have my gaydar. Works great. Makes me all hubba hubba for wonderful women that are lesbians. If only I could flip the switch to make me hubba hubba for the straight ladies, I'd be much happier. Hell, a cluestick for when women are hubba hubba for me is what I really need.

Anyhow, I came in here to say, ripping movies for the iPhone for the trip to FLA, and what did I learn? I didn't know Joss Whedon was one of the writers for Toy Story!! Very cool!!

Ok, off to bed. Shulda long time ago.

You and me both, omnis. Or something mirror-verse-ish. Well, no, okay - my gaydar works fine, but I have a history of fancying the gay boys. Back before the gaydar got its fine tuning.

...rearrange all that to make a sensible sentence, 'kay? Cannot brain. 6pm, and the last parent has left. Am knackered. But happy - my kids rock, and the parents were all friendly (so far). Hopefully tomorrow will be just as smooth.

I'm going to be 40 next year. I'm certain I sound 50 online. In my head, I'm about 33.

Java and I are as one in this. Right down to the exact numbers.

Although, my head-age will sometimes ratchet down to eleven or so, especially if I'm watching the right kind of movie or reading the right kind of book.

morning bitches.

I hope you feel better soon vw!

My soon to be ex craxy employers are most definitely coming to a sad conclusion. Things like "we haven't talked about half the things you do as a matter of course for five years! Have they changed much? How do you do that and all the new stuff? How is X going to do it all?" and my personal favorite "what if we need help on a weekend?".

Mad cackling ensued.

Ion I had blood drawn yesterday and the nurse was awesome and fast but I think I have a massive bruise. Yuck.

36. Feels like 25.

My soon to be ex craxy employers are most definitely coming to a sad conclusion. Things like "we haven't talked about half the things you do as a matter of course for five years! Have they changed much? How do you do that and all the new stuff? How is X going to do it all?" and my personal favorite "what if we need help on a weekend?".

Bwahahaha! Oh, I hope you get the chance to provide your services to them as a consultant once you've left, for a gazillion dollars an hour, as they flounder around in excrement creek sans paddle.

"what if we need help on a weekend?".

Mad cackling ensued.

BWAH!

I'm 41-- when I tell people, they don't believe it.

Irony is, I look better at 41 than I did in my late 20s/early 30s, so I'm perfectly fine admitting it. My mother, on the other hand, tries to lie about my age all the time.

38, feel mid-late 20s.

Why am I awake at 4:21 AM????

I'm 41, and I got carded at the liquor store last Saturday. For whatever that's worth.

There's a line on the BRQG, about JM. Something along the lines of:

It's better to admit to 39 and have people go "Wow, really?" than claim 25 and have people say, "Huh. That smack habit really adds the years, doesn't it?"

I like that philosophy.