35....35...... a year ago today I was sick really sick with my pregnancy. It's weird to think about all that has happened this last year. Am I allowed to say that my 34th year of life sucked. I mean there were some definite bright spots, like miss Davy Jean. But all in all it was my hardest year ever. Even harder then my 16th year, when my brother told me that everyone at school thinks I'm a lesbian and wants me to go the parties as the token lesbo. I think 35 is going to be the year I lose my mind, I'll be crazy aunt Ruthy. Everyone will speak in hushed tones around the crazed old hag. I'm going to wear funky moo moos and bandannas. I'm gonna start drinking ginger ale.
Whoa, I've got to stop typing. Scott gave a sleeping pill and I'm pretty wonky. I really should not be held responsible for this post. abort abort!!