Almost 37 ...

Tomorrow is my birthday.  July 1 was also Princess Diana's birthday, but, I can't leave out, it is Pamela Anderson's birthday as well.  So, as with most things, it's a mixed bag.  Anyway, I'm not too one way or the other about 37.  It used to seem really old, but now, not so much.  The only thing I really don't like about a birthday - mine or one of the kids' - is that it just seems so unfair that life just keeps moving on, inevitably, towards the end.  It really doesn't seem like 17 or 27 were very long ago, so I know that 47, 57, 67 and so on (if I'm so lucky as to live that long), will seem to have arrived in the blink of an eye.  I watch Finn try to act older than he is, and then Gus trying to be just like Finn, and I remember feeling at that age like life seemed to be taking a terribly long time to get started.  And now even seven seems like just yesterday.  I guess it's like a roller coaster chugging uphill for so long that you can't stand the anticipation another minute, and then the fun, thrilling downhill part flies by so fast you can't even think while it's happening.  The only thing you keep thinking while you're speeding around out of control and screaming your head off is that you will never, ever do this again and it was a horrible mistake to get on the roller coaster in the first place, and you get off all queasy and telling your friends how you thought you were going to die or vomit.  But then after a little while you start to think how that ride was so awesome and it makes you want to stand in line for the ride all over again.  Thus, that age-old question is finally answered by me:  life really does imitate a carnival ride, even if the prizes are a little better.