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Thursday, August 18, 2011

Paranormal 30's

What I have heard about ghosts is that they are dead people that just don't know they are dead and they wonder around their old stomping grounds and think everything is fine...except its not because they are dead.  Recently I discovered that my 30's are a lot like that.  Let me explain...
We have been looking for a babysitter to allow us some freedom on the weekends to go out with friends and come home slightly intoxicated whenever we want.  I found a great girl that is a nursing student at an all girls university and our boys loved her. She was born the same year I was a freshman high school.  That didn't stop me from believing that I was the same age as she.  I can remember when I was 20 like it was yesterday. I talk like her, know all the "hip" things, really we aren't that far apart in age.  Hey, we could be bff's! Except the fact that she wouldn't want to be my bff because she views me as a mini-van driving mom who is socially lame (even though I have a facebook account and I even text).  I must say, that my 20 year old self wouldn't have noticed that she sent me an email at 3:44 a.m. and maybe if I was as cool as I think, I wouldn't have noticed either. She probably thinks I'm pushing 40, hell, When I was 20 every person over the age of 25 was old and whether they were 24 or 44 I put them in the same category as my parents. But being that I am 7 months shy of my mid thirties, I am in complete denial and I don't realize I'm in my 30's.  I notice that some of my closest friends are starting to show their age and look more like their mothers did when we were in high school more than what they looked like in high school.  But I must be the exception.
My niece recently asked me to take her to a party that my sister wouldn't take her to. Being the "cool" aunt that I am, I agreed. I put the baby in his car seat, turned on the young hip radio station (rather than the adult alternative one that is always on) and we were on our way.  I tried to give her "wise" advice from when I was 14, "you don't need to worry about boys, you have your entire life." She half listened and was texting the majority of the ride. She is a beautiful cross between Brooke Shields and Jennifer Connely. She really doesn't need to worry about getting boys attention, they notice her already. But my advice is dated (apparently). But that doesn't stop me, heck it wasn't that long ago I was a freshman in high school and playing soccer and chasing boys. (30's denial once again.) We arrived at the party and I noticed that there was a group of 15 or so boys standing in the drive way.  I asked her if any girls were planning on being at this party.( Trying to ignore the fact that I sounded just like my mom with that statement.)  She looked at me, pointed and said "duh" and all they way across the enourmous yard was a group of 15 or so girls.  I guess my memory had failed to recall the fact that boys and girls don't actually communicate at pre-freshman age parties. Before I knew it she was out of the van. (Admitting that a mini van IS a little embarrassing).  My ghost of a 30 year old may need to come to a realization that things have changed.  When I was in high school there wasn't facebook or even laptops for that matter.  There were car phones, but not cell phones. Caller ID didn't exist yet and my cable only had about 34 channels.   I felt that if she listened to me she may learn some valuable information, such as,  never go to Taco Bell at 3:30 a.m. because if a cop happens to show up you are stuck in a drunk driver party line with no where to go and chances are you may get arrested... maybe its not my advice that she needs. If I would have listened to all the old people that gave me advice I wouldn't have had nearly as much fun as I did.
Although I may look 30 something I certainly don't feel it.  There are a few times where I look in the review mirror and see 4 little guys safely strapped in their seats and I wonder how in the world I got to this point.  I swear that just yesterday I was flirting with Don in a bar on 4th Street in Santa Monica. Now I'm driving through Starbucks because I couldn't bear to listen to the baby cry and slept sitting up, not because I was out partying. And I can't just go home at 2 and take a 4 hour nap.
There are times though when I wish that I could have a sleep over and paint my nails and read magazines and care only about what is happening tomorrow rather than what the next month or even next year looks like.  Perhaps embracing this decade will exorcise the ghost.
But for now, I will float along lost in a pleasant purgatory of a decade that seems to have a relevant purpose to gently give me the realization that I am, indeed a grown up.

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