Why Am I Doing This?

Let's be honest, kids. I'm bored. This is the first time in my life I haven't found some cheap form of entertainment to get me through the days that all seem to run together. When I graduated from college, I was wrapped up in my alternate world where I made friends on message boards and spent my life working for someone else's career (double ewe tee eff was I thinking?). At least it was something to do! This is the first time I have been plain bored. So, I, once again, shall submerge myself into this alternate universe where I can make faceless friends. Maybe you can be my first!

Onward.

The name of this blog is "30 Going On 13" because I think as I get older, I get younger. What I mean by that is that as the years tick on and as I should be maturing in life and moving forward, I seem to be regressing. I have a college degree. I have a law degree. I have Bar membership in the State of Florida. Yet, I am fairly certain, mentally, I am approximately twelve. I blame this in large part on my eleven year old brother. I always chalked my immaturity up to trying to be a sister to him, rather than a parent, but let's be real -- I'm thirty. Calling a sixth grader a dork and fighting with him because he's having a 'tude is really not what a thirty year old should be doing. However, I don't intend to stop. I simply just want to call attention to my recognition and acceptance of these actions that are not akin with the normal behavior of someone my age. For the sake of other examples, I have several Facebook "friends" who are eleven and under (and a few older siblings of these tots who are approximately thirteen). And not only are these kids my friends on Facebook, but they IM me, they post on my walls, I comment on their statuses, and I tag them in my own statuses. That's right. They are my friends (sans quotes). What is wrong with this picture?

Recently, my brother's travel baseball team went to a national tournament in St. Augustine and I had more fun with the kids than the parents. I sat with the parents in the bar the first night there, but was more interested in the game of tag the kids were playing on every floor of the hotel. I kind of wanted to play too, but I thought that would be a tad much. At breakfast, I sat with the kids and one of the parents told me it was okay to come sit with the adults because I am one. I was like "oh yeah .. I am, aren't I?" I don't know if I forget sometimes or if I am in the most extreme state of denial there is, but the kids are fun! I like them! In my own defense, the kids like me back and come to me when they want to have an adult around who isn't an adult (such as to shoot pool when they needed adult supervision).

Alright, enough examples. I am making myself sound a little bit like a predator you would see sipping iced tea on MSNBC, freaking out when Chris Hansen walks through the door. That is not the case. I just wanted to pave the path of where this blog is going -- supposing I actually keep up with it and don't slack off once something comes forth in my three dimensional life. Thanks for reading. Tell a friend. Why not get an audience going? It might make this more interesting ... and besides, I know I'm not the only thirty year old out there who vicariously lives life through a kid to some extent.

Until next time, Jen

Oh, and hug a veteran today.

"Denial. It's not just a river in Egypt. It's a frickin' ocean." - Grey's Anatomy