But if it were....
I'd de-Queen myself for a day and just be a regular peasant. I have bruises on my behind from accidentally sitting on my crown. Delicately, of course. But ouch just the same.
I'd certainly NOT bake myself a cake.
I'd remain 39. It's the new 19 you know. Forty is the new 20. Fifty is the new 30. Which means I'm barely 30...sorta.....ahem......just in case you're
NOT wondering. Yippee! What happened to pretend 19? It went by so fast.
But it's OK because I hear single is the new committed.
(I'm soooo committed. I'm not sure if that means I'm hip or insane)
Since going green is the new thing I'd go on a date with a "new thirty-nine" and see if the grass is greener.
I'm always on the cutting edge (I crack myself up.)
I'd stand in my modified pencil skirt......wind blowing....(which would seriously tickle my legs).....spout forth a sexy pout....give my best Marilyn impersonation and sing Happy Birthday to myself.
But since it's not my birthday I won't do any of those things. I'll just sit around and ponder the state of the world, twiddle my thumbs and look up naughty words in the dictionary. That is soooo unattractive. Perhaps a tattoo?
She should know.