Friday, December 12, 2008

A Rite of Passage and My Regression into the Teenage Years....

This week, my stepson was scheduled to get his permit. Husband-man fully intended to take him, but was hindered with a last-minute work meeting. So, I got the call and request to fill in for him. I gladly accepted, acted somewhat parent-like, and within a short half hour at the BMV, the little man walked away with a legal, picture-ID permit in his pocket - and even thanked his stepmom for doing so. What a kid. I even convinced him to become an organ donor, although he only committed to being a "partial donor," which we decided meant that he would end up merely having to give one eye and a foot when all was said and done.

In the same week, I secured a newer, shinier position at work - a better fit for me overall. I hopefully won't be working 60-hour weeks on a regular basis anymore, but have a more manageable, writing and editing position that has a bit of leadership thrown in on the side. Very responsible and mature, I might add.

To completely contradict all the grown-up stuff, I participated in the joint purchase of Britney Spears "Circus" tour tickets this week. Yes, you heard that right. The girl that loves the Foo Fighters and Led Zepplin is going to see a Britney Spears concert with her pals Leroy and Mockarena (and maybe Nashvegas) in the wonderful city of Chicago. While not until April, I have already been thinking about both my outfit choices (Catholic school girl or head-to-toe red leather?) and the fact that I shall dance like a 16-year old all night. Hell, all of us old married women will dance like we're idiot teenagers, and I can...not...wait. Britney's no Gwen Stefani, and I don't even think a real note will come out of her head, truth be told, but the fun and fluff factor will be high nonetheless.

They say that Christmastime brings out the childlike response in people. And let's face it - there's nothing like the thought of unadulterated, mindless fun with your girlfriends to get you in the party spirit. At my age, regression - or even the thought of it - is just plain grand. This is what it takes to get a 37-year old woman into the childlike (or teenage-like) Christmas spirit - a slutty blond bimbo from Louisiana that lip-synchs. Alrighty then.

Let's all ponder that thought with a Britney video.

(You didn't really think I'd post a real one? Please.)