Is it really already November?
Is it really only 3 weeks from Thanksgiving?
Is it really 2010? And am I seriously 36-years-old already? It seems like yesterday that I was 5 and Santa brought me a Barbie mansion. Now I ask Santa for dishes and anti-wrinkle serum. Sigh…
I just hung up the phone with my girlfriend Kristi. She was telling me about her next door neighbor’s daughter, a young teen currently attending our alma mater – Fayette County High School. Go Tigers! Last night the neighbor had several friends over to burn memorabilia from a high school romance gone wrong. Kristi said she burned photos and letters (which we’re all familiar with), jewelry and a cell phone. Okay, I’ll admit it for all of us – a cell phone was a new one for me. We giggled about the drama of a teenage girl’s angst over a lost love, then we both agreed that we miss being young and dramatic. She said the kids were all wearing Fayette County jackets like we all used to wear, and there was a boy playing a guitar…I guarantee all the girls there had a crush on the guitar player. He could be the geekiest guy of the bunch, but if he plays a guitar he is instantly ‘So hot’! He must have so much emotion that he is sharing through that instrument. I mean, that’s what I thought when I was 16…not now.
Now I think, ‘He does dishes. He’s SO hot!’
And instead of researching the coolest tracks on iTunes, I’m researching which anti-gas medicine is safe for dogs. (Those beasts are stinky…sorry, but it’s true).
But I must also admit that instead of having bonfires to burn photos in effigy, with 36 also comes a state of peace. A feeling that “I yam who I yam” (to quote Popeye), and I’m pretty okay with that. I don’t feel compelled to call everyone I know to gossip about what my boyfriend did that was so lame…Yeah, that’s a lie, I totally gossip about the lame things my husband does. But he doesn’t mind, he says it’s good for me.
Translation: He’d rather my girlfriends listen to me complain than having to endure it himself.
Is it really almost 2011???