Thirty T-ewwwww

Remember the scene in When Harry Met Sally when Sally is crying because her ex-boyfriend Joe is getting married?

She's sniffling away about how rejected she feels because Joe never wanted to get married to her, and then she adds, "And I'm going to be forty!"
Harry says, "When?"
She replies, "Someday!"
He says, "In eight years."

When I saw that movie in high school or college or whenever it was, I thought man, Sally is old. She's thirty-two and not married. That's really sad.

Well guess what: Today's my thirty-second birthday.

My ex-boyfriend from college is married. My on-and-off again man from my mid-twenties is getting hitched next month. I'm actually one of the very last people I know who isn't engaged, married, or toting around a couple of kids.

Does this bother me? Not really. Sure, thirty-two feels a bit dusty, a little gapey in the waist. Not quite my size yet. But it's cool; I'll wear it. The sun is shining today. Mr. Wonderful and I have an appointment at the spa for massages and a reservation at an Italian place in Hollywood for dinner. If this is what thirty-two feels like, I'll take it. No Sally tears here. Even if I am going to hit the big 4-0 in eight years...