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.
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