The other day, Eddie and I were discussing what to do for my birthday since it falls on a weekend this year.  This is kind of a Big Fat Joke considering the odds of having a babysitter are slim to none and we'll more than likely end up at Buffalo Wild Wings with children's menus and no margaritas in sight.  (And, for the record, I told him I want to go to Tunica to eat at the Paula Deen Buffet.  I walk on the wild side).  Each birthday that comes gets less and less exciting.  No one is buying me presents.  Or a cake.  Or setting up a bounce house. 

Something else that happens with each birthday?  I get older!  Big shock there, huh?  It's not just the years that are proof that I'm getting older, though.  I mean -- I wake up before 7:00 even on vacation.  Who does that?  Oh yeah.  OLD PEOPLE.  I (willingly) eat oatmeal for breakfast.  And not even the fun fruity kind with dinosaur or princess shaped gummies in it.  And yesterday - let me tell you about yesterday. 

NOT ONLY was I shopping at Sears.  And NOT ONLY has Sears become my go-to place when I'm looking for something to wear.  And NOT ONLY was I growing more and more disgusted because all of the shorts I could find were much too short for someone my age (okay, okay -- for someone with my thighs).  But.  I signed up for their shopping rewards program.  At Sears.  At the old lady store.  At the company I refused to step foot in when I lived in Waco because the store in the mall there smelled like a combination of mildew and nursing home.  I signed up for their shopping rewards program!  Because I shop there enough that I deserve to get rewards for it.  Congratulations, Brandi!  You're officially old.

Other things that have made me feel old lately:

- Walking into Charlotte Russe
- Walking into Forever 21
- Walking into Claire's
- Please don't even get me started on walking into Justice (and, yes, I had my 11-year-old stepdaughter with me)
- Friends being on Nick at Nite.  I know it's been there for a while.  But I still can't . . . I just . . . no.  Nick at Nite is for The Mary Tyler Moore Show.  Perhaps Happy Days.  I was firmly planted in my mid-20's when Friends went off the air.  It does not belong there.
- Z wandering into the kitchen while I was cooking dinner and rocking out to the 90's station on Pandora and informing me that she "doesn't like oldies."  GET OUT OF MY KITCHEN, BRAT!
- Realizing that I've been out of school longer than I was even in school.
- My knees hurt when I walk up the stairs.
- My stepdaughter informing us yesterday that she is now "in" to boys.  She was six when I met her -- and quiet and a little shy and thought boys were totes gross.  I realize a few of these old-isms have to do with her.  I'm pretty sure having a tween around just automatically ages you about ten years.  We've already had the discussion on how she's not allowed to have a baby before she's 20 because, ya'll, I will not be a grandmother - step or otherwise - while I'm still in my 30's.

Somebody send me a walker and some geritol!

--- In totall unrelated news, it's Super Tuesday and the Republican prez primary here in Tennessee today.  Rick Santorum was in Memphis Sunday (and the major news story for the day mainly because people were absolutely bewildered that a super conservative Republican came to historically liberal Memphis of all places in Tennessee).  Anyway.  The news showed him eating ribs (and not even at Rendezvous).  He was eating his ribs with a fork and knife.  I realize he is from Pennsylvania and all that.  But, ya'll, if you happen to be Republican and casting a vote today -- please do me a favor and don't vote for a man who eats RIBS WITH A FORK!  Kthanksbye.
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