I'm not complaining. I like getting older. It definitely beats the alternative. But when the hell did I actually become 32? And why do my knees hurt? And what's up with the whole "back seizing up" thing? And how come I can't just skip dessert and lose 5 pounds by morning? And given all of this, ought I really still be suffering the indignity of pimples? Will the waddle under my arm please stop growing? Will the bones in my feet please stop aching? Will the hangovers please revert to their previous, manageable form? Could young people stop growing more and more impossibly young? Not to mention alien? Not to mention dumb? Okay, that last one is out of order and not really true. But you're dying to come to my birthday party, now, right?