Maybe it’s down to the fact that I now have a mortgage, a pension, expensive shoes and most of the things that make a grown up a grown up, but I think I’m in the midst of some sort of teenage regression. The evidence is provided for your inspection:
Musical taste: The last two albums I bought were by Taylor Swift and Ke$ha (and this was before Ke$ha was featured on Glee so I can’t even blame that for my evoling tastes). Even more embarrassingly, I’m loving the quirky, somewhat risqué lyrics from Ke$ha and working out who Taylor is sad about splitting up with (Joe J) hates (Camille) or considers is still a child even thought they are about a decade older than she is (isn’t that right Kanye?) I guess the only saving grace here is that I haven’t caught Bieber fever and am still quite looking forward to his first drug overdose.
TV Taste: Currently done with True Blood (not that I don’t like it, just waiting for the next season) my latest series finds me watching girls literally half my age. Pretty Little Liars is about school girls who lie and a frenemy they share who may or may not be dead that seems set on texting them about their dodgy exploits. Said exploits they are so desperate not to share but insist on repeating (thereby making the likelihood of getting caught all the more probable) revolve around hooking up with older sisters fiancés, teachers and other girls.
I could pretend that I just happen to be watching it as there is nothing else on but my ‘co-incidentally’ sitting down and turning on MTV every Thursday at 8pm isn’t particularly fooling my husband, or anyone else for that matter. I’m also having a full on conniption fit waiting for Gossip Girl and Vampire Diaries to come back. Which leads me nicely onto…
Crushes: I thought these would be things of the past once I bought my first pair of Louboutins (you knew I would get that in here somewhere didn’t you?) but once I caught myself thinking ‘those McFly boys have grown up a lot haven’t they?’ I realised it was a phase far from over. Luckily a little goggling confirms that my current interests are reassuringly similar to my own age even if they do play college students and vampires (cliché or what eh?)
Tantrums, proper ones: From not being able to think of what my next blog would be about sulks to the full-on foot stomping ‘I want a golden egg daddy’ strop I threw in a garden centre last Sunday. What was my compliant you ask? well having worked extremely hard digging up dying/dead or unwanted plants in my back garden (an activity my nails still haven’t forgiven me for partaking in) I was advised I couldn’t have the newer, prettier and altogether more fabulous plant I wanted. In my dad’s defence, he was only pointing out that it would become quite large and needed a little TLC. He knows my gardening skills are on par with my needlework skills and as I once managed to sew my skirt to the top I was wearing whilst darning a hem you’ll understand his concerns. In my defence, it was really pretty and I wanted it.
So maybe I am acting like a proper princess but I'm sure I've read in a reputable journal somewhere that crushes help release endorphins which makes you healthy and widening musical tastes keep your brain active and therefore means I’ll be less inclined to say things like ‘I remember when this was all trees’ and ‘not in my house you don’t’ and rubbish like that.
Just to update you, I got the plant I wanted from the garden centre in the end anyway, which goes to show temper tantrums are a valid form of communication even, if you are 34.