Hello blogiverse. Long time no see. Today, I felt it appropriate to document my weekend of regression and thought you might relate. I so fully embraced my regression this weekend that by Sunday night I felt sixteen again, in all the good ways. I call this a win. How did I access this internal fountain of youth, you ask? Ha. See below.
Friday night, I arrived home from work and immediately took my thirteen year old son out for a quick dinner, just us two as my husband and daughter were otherwise engaged. My son proceeds to ask me at what age is it appropriate to lose your virginity. Sigh, I thank my lucky stars he still feels comfortable enough to ask me these questions, but jeez. Wasn’t expecting that one. After our heart to heart about consequences and the like, we took in the awesomeness that is Wonder Woman at our local theater. My son and I are the only two in our family of four that enjoy the super hero genres, DC being our preferred world over Marvel, and the film did not disappoint. It was everything we both wanted it to be. We left the theater feeling 110% satisfied with the film, both chanting “so good” on departure.
Saturday, I spent binge watching Riverdale, on Netflix, while eagerly awaiting revisions from my editor on Book 3 of my Sunset Dreams Series, coming later this summer. It was a struggle trying to tamp down my inner teenage lust whilst feeling very much the creepy cougar as I drooled over our new age Archie and Jughead. Lord Almighty, when did Cole Sprouse grow into such a tortured hottie? I mean, he was Julian in Big Daddy. He was Cody on Sweet Life. I feel like such a skeeze, and yet my guilt over his age did not stop me from stalking him and the show on Instagram when I came to the last episode of season 1. Early in the series the Veronica character refers to Jughead as Riverdale’s very own Holden Caulfield. Yes, I nominate him for the role. But fair warning, like Gossip Girl, Riverdale is addictive, only darker, which makes it that much more alluring. The high school students are more witty and quick with literary references than your average teen, but that just appeals to a more…cough, cough… mature audience. Only now I have to wait months for season 2 to air. So unfair. I’ll just be over here on Pinterest.
Sunday, I made my way with my twenty-four year old daughter to the NKOTB concert. Openers were Boys II Men, Paula Abdul, and then the boys, now men of NKOTB took the stage. I’ll be honest, it was emotional. I was a mega-fan, borderline groupie of NKOTB back in the day, right up until my daughter came along in 1993. My first tears came when Boys II Men took the stage and they rocked the arena. These were our slow jams. Sigh. Paula Abdul killed a great performance and brought back memories of things I had forgotten. But when Donnie Wahlberg took the stage with his B-town buddies, my inner teenager started screaming. Literally. I yelled, bounced, laughed, shook my rump, and screamed my little heart out some more. They ran the stage as in their twenties, even though they’re all in their forties. There was crowd surfing, shirt ripping, and synchronized dancing. Magic. I was so giddy, so caught up in a time when I was still innocent in so many ways, I was cry/laughing at several points during their performance. But these guys were ripped and spry, by no means old, and definitely no longer boys. Men. And appropriately there was lots of innuendos and plenty of teasing as they made fun of themselves and all of us in the crowd. I probably went to every concert they had locally back in the day. To walk into one of their arena concerts where everyone was between the ages of 35-55 instead of 13-19 was hilarious. But I have to give it to them, their fans are a diverse and loyal bunch of women. At the end of the night, my daughter thanked me for sharing the experience with her. Even now as I type this, my eyes are tearing up. I can’t help it. I’m a sensitive soul. My daughter says I’m a delicate daisy. But being able to reboot the fun we once had in our youth is priceless. When those forgotten memoires are triggered, be prepared for the emotional havoc. Life is still full of sexy innocence and stomach flips no matter how old you are. So don’t feel guilty for reading that YA romance or watching the latest teen drama on TV. Inside we’re are all young at heart if we allow ourselves to be. Enjoy it. Revel in it. Regress.
I’ve been doing most of my sharing through my newsletter these days, instead of blogging, although there is something to be said for both forms a communication. If you’re interested in signing up for my newsletter, here is the link. Oh, there’s a free book in it for you if you do. Cheers. http://eepurl.com/bjAzz1
I write sweet and spicy romance, and enjoy reading a wide range of genres. Exploring the art of the written word is a passion, and I delight in both page-turning conflict and stomach-flipping chemistry. Other than English, I speak Spanish, Moroccan, and a little French. My dream is to travel the world with my laptop, creating captivating characters and dreamy escapes. I sing constantly, if a bit off-key to my family’s chagrin. I’m also a klutz, and in my own mind, I’m hilarious.