Thursday, June 16, 2005

I don't wanna grow up, I'm a Toys R Us kid...

You know, you'd think that by 31, I would feel and act like a grown up, but I really don't - for instance, the other night, my husband was talking to the guy we're buying the house from in Savannah and he was asking if we want any of his furniture because it would save them the trouble of moving it, yadda, yadda, yadda - and I asked for some book cases (because I have a ton of books) and the computer desk and my husband had been eyeing the lurvely dining table and matching china cabinet and my first thought was "Are we 'grown up' enough to have a dining table and china cabinet?"

1) we've never really been those people who eat at a dining table
2) we don't have china - we don't even have enough matching plates to invite people over and not have to apologize

I mean - I'm married, have a kid, have a mortgage (or 2), have a credit card (or 5), and own a library of cookbooks, but a dining room table is too "grown up" for me?

Of course, I probably should mention that last week, when my husband was in Savannah looking for a house, I spent most of the evening IMing with friends while my 6 year old son ate Cheez-its for dinner and played Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas. Yeah - I'm not even a good babysitter, how am I a parent?

And do you want to know the first thing I researched about Savannah? How many tattoo parlors they have there (for the record, there's 3).

A month ago, I had fire engine red hair.

And then I realized that today is my last day of wearing work clothes for an undefined amount of time, so it took me forever to decide what "grown up" clothes to wear (for the record, I went with my plaid skirt, pink shirt, black sweater and my boots)

Do you remember, when you were a kid, how old 30 sounded? Like it was all grown up with lingerie and martinis and real jobs and a house with a picket fence, you know? And somehow I keep expecting that to happen to me - like I think one day, I'll wake up and throw away my knee high boots and green nailpolish and buy some sensible loafers and get a "mom" haircut.

But I guess if 40 is the new 30, I'm actually only 21 (finally, new math is benefiting me), so I should be going out every night drinking, right? Who's taking me out for shots tonight?