Growing up?

I (sort-of) reconnected with a childhood friend the other day...childhood as in 7th grade. Anyway, she commented that I was the same now as I was then. I've gotta admit, that freaked me out. It has actually continued to nag at me for the past two days. Looking back, I was the exact twelve/thirteen year old that completely annoys me now. I'm holding out hope that I am not nearly as crazy at 29 as I was then.

I'm an exuberant person, I get that. I've got a lot of emotion, and really no way of hiding it. It's just who I am, and as I approach my 30th birthday (eek!!), I'm slowly figuring out how to accept that part of myself. I'll admit though, deep inside me is someone who wishes that words like "demure," "calm," and "sedate" applied to me. I think that may be one of those "snowball's chance" kind of things, but oh well. I'll probably spend the rest of my life trying to learn how to calm down. I just really really hope that I've made strides over the past 15 years...and that the insanity that was me as a 'tween (by the way, my apologies Mom and Dad) has tempered somewhat. Who knows. Anybody who knew me then and now want to chime in?

Wait, forget it. I'm already sorry I asked.

Speaking of age, I'm having a slight not-midlife-yet-but-crisis-none-the-less about turning 30. Thirty. Thirty, thirty, thirty. It just seems so....so....not twenty-something. Like I might actually have to step up and be an grown-up. Apparently, in my mind, the last ten years don't qualify as adulthood, although my husband, children, and mortgage payment are probably decent evidence to dispute that theory. In any case, I feel my thirtieth birthday lurking...in the shadows...ready to pounce.

Perhaps I should just embrace the big 3-0, and say a prayer it's part of the equation for a new, calmer Christine. A sedate Christine. A demure Christine.

Nope. That just sounds boring. I'm going to go chug a Dr. Pepper and fully embrace my last five months as a 29 year old. Loudly, and exuberantly.

Somebody had better warn Dn. John.