I welcome my birthday--the day I get to add another candle to the cake--not only for my years on this earth, but also for my years as a cancer survivor. After all, the only way to avoid growing old is dying young. I am trying to avoid joining that club! Lets face it, we've all survived something: cancer, a bad break-up, the death of a loved one, a failed career and we're still here on this ridiculously fabulous planet for yet another year. Isn't that a miracle? Maybe one day, someone will have a cure for cancer and cellulite. Wouldn't that be great? Talk about having your birthday cake and eating it, too!
Now don't get me wrong, it's not like I'm doing back flips about getting:
A. Crow's FeetCORRECT ANSWER: F
B. A Wrinkled Neck
C. Chicken Wings
D. Saggy BoobsE. Grey Hair
F. All of the Above
But I do intend to get so old that I do end up wrinkled and gray and stooped. I'll whack people with my cane and wander around my nursing home yelling, "Move bitches" and "Bring the 'Paign"! Who would like to join me there?