Thirty Three Subtract Twenty Nine

My Aunt once told me that when we die and go to heaven (fingers crossed) we are eternally thirty three.

"Thirty three is the best age to be," she told me.

So all my life I waited patiently to be thirty three.

And here we are. And here I am. And you know what? Thirty three is really nice, but it doesn't beat twenty nine. Twenty nine had all the right fixings of energy and hopefulness, naivete and wisdom with a huge helping of sass.

For me anyway.


I mean, if someone could please assure me that I will be twenty nine forever I will give up my horrid habit of laziness. Because you know, lazy people won't get into heaven.

In other news, here is a picture of Chup and me when I was twenty nine.

See? When I was twenty nine I wasn't lazy. I helped Chup hoist this AC unit to the top of our car and strap it down so it didn't flap in the wind on our way home from Idaho. I am not sure what the pitchfork had to do with it.

Along with my habit of laziness I should give up my habit of lying. I didn't not help Chup hoist this AC to the top of our car. Probably because I was lazy when I was twenty nine. But also probably not as lazy as I am at thirty three. But come on! Don't we get to be lazy in heaven anyway? Harps? Clouds? Wings?

Ok. In fact, if someone could promise me that both Chup and I could look like this in heaven for eternally I will give up laziness and lying. Package deal.

I love it when I write posts like this.

Chup writes about his favorite new sandwich:

I am c jane and I took a lot of pictures of myself when I was twenty nine. Also, it's not my birthday, I was just in a reflective mood when I wrote this.
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