soon my joints will predict the weather.

In the span of the first two months of being 30, I have already:

Realized I am too old to witness a mosh pit without trying to rescue preteens as I flee;
Had enough problems with the arch of my left foot to cause my mother to conclude that I can't wear "just any old shoes you want" anymore--I may need to pay attention to things like arch support;
Recognized the sounds of a keg stand taking place somewhere near my apartment and responded disapprovingly because it was before noon.

My knee has been stiff for two weeks. I've been icing, stretching, and mumbling voodoo chants over it to no avail, so I finally decided to ask the internet for some ideas. My Google search turned up exercises for healthy senior living.

Fuck you, Google.

the cruelest month.

Welcome to April, which is National Poetry Month. I'm excited by this challenge and I decided to change it a little bit--I will be tweeting a new 140-character poem for each day in April. Which makes me wonder, could 140 characters be the new haiku? Follow me to see how I hold up. And if you want to participate, I'm using the hashtag #poemaday. Happy writing!