It's apparently true - I'm not getting any younger. My doctor, Dr. Heavyaccent, had the nerve to say this to me as she pointed to my age, written in a large scrawl across the top of my chart.

Needless to say, I'm looking for another doctor. But that's the subject of another entry.

So here I am, hurtling madly toward middle age, if I'm not there already, still don't own a house, no kids (that's something I'm happy about, actually), and I'm about to go to grad school - which will put us even farther from going to Europe, home ownership, and the other things one normally does when one is "not getting any younger".

I'm either stupid, crazy, or a free spirit. Possibly a combination of all three.

But I think I got the last laugh when dining out recently. I ordered a beer, and the waitress carded me. She apologized, saying that she had to card anyone that appeared to be under 30.

"I love you," I told her as I showed her my ID.