(Hey, take a minute to check out my new beautiful butterfly logo on my home page!)

My birthday is on Wednesday, and I thought it would be fun to write a blog about the fun of turning 55.

I don’t have hang-ups like many women about getting older. It’s a cliché, but to me it’s just a number, like the scale. I don’t pay the slightest bit of attention to either one, because they’re both lying jealous whores as far as I’m concerned. If my clothes fit and I look good in pictures, that’s enough for me.

I always hike on my birthday, arduously, in a different location every year, then usually get a deep-tissue massage and use a hot tub, so I always turn my phone off on the 25^th. If you get a Facebook birthday notification for me on Wednesday, please feel free to ignore it, because I will either be huffing and puffing around mountains or moaning in pleasure. And if you want to wish me well, thank you- it always comes as a nice surprise when anyone shows interest in me.

Let me try and do a fun Onion-like slideshow entitled:

The Hidden Benefits of Turning 55

I can finally put the twenty backscratchers I’ve gotten for assorted holidays throughout the years to good use.

I can no longer reach my itchy spots. I can only blame my skeletal system, and the fact that I have no hot guy to reach them. I know, I know, yoga would help. Fuck yoga. I actually snuck a Bear Claw Backscratcher into my car, and one into my work bag, just to be safe. It’s better than rubbing up against walls like some kind of psychotic animal.

I get to look forward to a home colonoscopy kit.

You should have seen me the other day. I have a few things ordered, and when I saw the box on the front stoop, I thought it was either my makeup or my sneakers. Excited, with my endorphins pumping and my face flushed, I tore that box open not to Thrive Cosmetics Eye Brighteners, but the Cologuard box. Bummer. Hey, it’s still better than going in person. (Note: I know you know this, but it behooves me to mention that if colon cancer runs in your family, you should get the in-person one every year).

It’s not a lie when I use this excuse to get out of doing something I don’t want to do, or when I want someone to feel sorry for me:

“I’m sorry, it’s just that I’m attending to some minor medical issues, nothing serious but I’ve just been lying low.” Mid-to-late 50’s is all about minor medical issues, and we don’t have to explain them. All I had to do was drink Super Beets, but how do they know it wasn’t more serious?

I can say “I have Uggs older than you” to most people and it’s usually true.

When watching a movie with a hot actor like Ryan Reynolds, Chris Hemsworth, Henry Cavill, or Michael B. Jordan, I can say:

“He is so hot,” and elicit disgust from my sons. I can feel their disapproving gazes bore into my soul. I love grossing them out, it’s the best perk of being older.

My favorite movies now play on TCM.

I’m not 56.