Birthday Suit

Contrary to the title, no I will not be posting nude pictures of myself today. I will spare you the agony. Instead I will give you some insight as to how it feels, for me at least, to be 31. Ready? Here it is: I don't feel a damn bit different. I don't "FEEL" different. Now, I'm sure my wife will be quick to point out the new gray hairs I've acquired this year. In fact, she pointed them out last weekend. Yep, right there on top of my head. Not so bad since the first ones appeared on the side. Spaced out, you really don't see them. Of course it could be worse. I'd rather my hair change color than fall out, so I consider myself blessed.

What else? Oh, I'm no longer that strapping young buck I was at 21. Funny how during the time of my life where my diet was at it's worst, I looked my best. Of course, I was exercising then instead of sitting on my ass like I do now...maybe it has less to do with aging and a decline in testosterone as it does with my sedentary lifestyle. I need to fix that. I now have a good reason growing in Amy's belly.

That brings me to my next point. I was asked yesterday how it feels to know you're having a boy at 31. I suppose it feels a lot better to know I'm having a boy at 31 than at 41 or 21. In fact I believe its the best time of my life to have a boy (or girl for that matter). Going on 3 years of owning a home, being happily married, and having a steady job, well, I don't think you could be in a better position. Furthermore, I'm young, and if I can motivate myself to get a little exercise and get back in shape then I should have the stamina to keep up with the little booger.

Here's another good one. This morning I was told that 31 is a pretty anticlimactic birthday. Let's think about this for a minute and consider the climax of previous birthdays. If my memory serves me correctly, and it's a bit fuzzy, my birthdays spanning from roughly 17 to about 27 (a solid ten years) usually peaked late in the evening with a celebratory regurgitation of that evenings alcohol. Never pretty and never quite as good coming up as it was going down. In most cases this was followed by a spinning of the room, wishing to god I'd make it through the night, passing out in my cloths (or not) and waking up swearing I'll never do it again. Frankly, I'm getting a little old for that these days so it's safe to say I could do without the climax.

My plans are to take it easy. I mean, with Thanksgiving the next day, you pretty much have to. I'm thinking a nice dinner with the family, a good bottle of wine from our stash, and while I sit laid back relaxing with my feet propped up, I might just think of a name for my boy. (Sound like an old man yet?...don't care). And though I may open a few presents, I think the best one comes next week when I take the week off to go hunting with my dad.

So all in all it's just another birthday. I'm just glad to have made it another year.

Cheers.