I had a rather detailed and completely awesome blog prepped yesterday, but the damn internets ated it.
Luckily, I saved it, but it is a Wednesday blog, so it will have to wait.
My 34th birthday is coming up. I never have an inkling about my age until I hang out with people dramatically different in age from me. Last night, A and I partook of a common tradition of hanging out at our favorite local dive bar, Burg's. And there are regulars we usually hang out with. I always forget how young they are until I see them. I think my mind wants to make them older so I don't feel so pervy. Or maybe because I am still as immature as they are, except I'm 34 and they are 22, and there is just something so inherently wrong in that.
I mean, I have a degree, I have children, a house, and good job, and yet, my mind always seems to revert back to 14 year old boy jokes, binge drinking and ogling pretty boys.
I am kinda leery about acting my age. Hell, I don't even know what acting my age looks like. What does it look like? Wow, I just stumped myself. Am I that much in denial or is it true that 30's are the new teens?