About a week ago, I had the need to watch "13 Going on 30"... not the WANT. The NEED.
Though, I'll admit, it is one of my favorite chick flicks EVER, it is not one that I watch on a day-to-day basis *cough* Mean Girls *cough*. I had no idea where the extreme desire to watch this movie came from, but when I couldn't sleep Wednesday night, I decided to pop it in.
Like Jenna Rink, I've always pictured myself being "Thirty, Flirty, and Thriving." Single, an incredible loft apartment in New York City, and nothing holding me down except my dream job. Unlike most girls, I have never imagined myself being "Thirty, Dirty, and Changing Diapers". It's not that the thought of making my own family repulses me in any way; I think it would be awesome to be married and have kids... just not any time soon.
Somewhere along the line, though, I started spreading concrete on my Converse and cleaning out the guest room for my arch nemesis, Miss Practical. I had shoved the Jenna Dream house in the back of the closet and started looking for things that would get the "Good Housekeeping Stamp of Approval" instead of my own.
Then I watched "13 Going on 30"... and as stupid as this probably sounds... it reminded me of why I've always wanted to be thirty. You don't have to answer to anyone but yourself, you decide your own fate, and you can fill your closet with as many shoes as you want without anyone bitching at you. Also, if you find love at thirty, it's awesome; you know what you want, you know who YOU are, and you can actually afford the Jenna Dream House. AND if you're lucky, you'll still spend more than half of your life with the one you love. What's the rush, twenty-somethings?
I think it was a really good time for me to watch that movie. I mean obviously, I don't plan on transporting to thirty via magic dust from my closet anytime soon, but it was definitely a great reminder of why I need to live up my twenties and start doing things for ME.
Starting with moving to Wales in 2 weeks. EEK.
Mad Love.
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