This struck me the other day in the bath: If I had had a child at last opportunity, it would be eleven now. Eek! I don't know which freaks me out more...the fact I could have a kid that old (actually, I could have a 17-year-old at my age, just like my mom) or that, well, and this may be too much information, but it's been that long.
On the more morbid front: There was a show about entertainment shockers on this weekend, and I found out that I am the same age now as Marilyn Monroe was at her death. And I'm not that much younger than Elvis was at his death--he was only 42. I somehow thought he was older. I guess all that hard living made him seem older--and when he died my parents were just hitting 30, so he seemed ancient by comparison. But I don't feel that old. I kind of feel like I'm just hitting my second wind. When did I become middle-aged? Argh! I. Really. Need. A. Quiz. Now.
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