ke$ha does not make me feel young...
to stave off, yet not completely put to rest, speculation about my actual age, an official number that's escaped even me, i'm sharing a revelation i experienced yesterday. it's on--i've entered my late 20's/early 30's and not by tears shed over checking off the next age bracket on some random form. no, i was unofficially sworn in by a sudden appreciation of the columbine/harlequin tomfoolery forever enameled into the kandler-crafted miniature sculptures on display at the met.
modern translation: i like knick knacks. it all goes downhill from there.
embrace your age but certainly not ag(ing).