I will get by.

This past Saturday was my birthday. The big 3-4. Thirty-four. It doesn't roll off the tongue quite like twenty-three, but it's alright.

A few days before this momentous event I found a most unexpected birthday present from myself: my first grey hair. Huh? Blondes don't go grey; we go brown! So, to soothe my psyche, I've decided to call it "natural highlights".

I am betting that there is some sort of correlation between the grey hair and the purchase of a minivan and a recliner. Just a hunch - but I think that whole correlation bit has something to do with aging. Sigh.

The Grateful Dead have a pretty good outlook on getting older. I leave you with some words of wisdom from them. Here's the video, if you want to watch and listen to the song. Feel free to don your tie-dye and dance along with me - the very pregnant, mousy-blonde woman with the single grey hair wearing a calico and velvet muumuu with no shoes, playing a tambourine. Jam on!

The shoe is on the hand it fits.
There's really nothing much to it.
Whistle through your teeth and spit
'Cause it's all right.

Oh well, a touch of grey
Kind of suits you anyway.
That was all I had to say.
And it's all right.

I will get by.
I will survive.