Roller Coaster! (Of Love!)

So I was out with my buddy Dave and my homegirl Arrissia last night, taking in the twenty-nothings at the Prospector, when one adorable little girl started staring at me and Ris sitting there in our booth all old. Thirty-four is not agreeing with me, and Arrissia is almost 35. So I was feeling old, and then I started to have a small identity crisis because no one there feared me, and no one was kissing up to me, and I didn't have my professional wall to hide behind, and I was just some old unemployed womyn instead of a Very Important Young Lady. And then I started to despond myself over the handsome but married barkeep, upon whom I've had a small crush for close to a decade, and a different married man about whom I've been having impure thoughts, and for a moment I got really bitter and decided 34 would be the year I dated only married men, which, while I have indeed been around, I have never knowingly done, and I was mean-in-my-heart and didn't care about not taking what wasn't mine, and I was mean, and sad, and bitter! And 34!
Yow!
Then I decided to put on some lip gloss. And about five minutes later, I was happy again--glossy! shiny!--and and had sloughed off my slough and didn't want to leave. EVER.