You know you're in your thirties when...

...the hotel staff wish you a Happy Mother's Day.

I mean, lady, I am well aware I've been steadily putting on weight for a while now (my mellow-making drugs and too damn many delicious cakes are the main culprits) - and yes, I am aware that a childless woman in her thirties is something of a bizarre curio in your family-centric culture - but really. For a minute there I was enjoying the novel sensation of actually filling out my unpadded bikini top, enough so that I could ignore the plumper new bits further south.

Isn't life just one big series of trade-offs for women? Skinny no-boobs or chubby McBooberson. Boring safe guy or dashing cad. Chocolate honey-comb or pink grapefruit (can't do both together! Or CAN you...). Faithful werewolf or moody vampire.

*sigh*