When I turned 10, I was excited to finally reach double-digits. At 12, my mom let me go to the mall and put two pieces of metal through my earlobes. At 13, I earned the lofty rank of "teenager." When I hit 17, the state of Delaware thought I was responsible enough to operate a large motor vehicle on my own (hahaha, idiots). At 21 I was finally able to (legally) drink. When I turned 26, I rejoiced when my car insurance premium dropped.
But at 31, all I really wanna do is get the hell out of town for a little while and have some fun, 'cause the next "important" life marker's gonna be just over the hill at 40, so I have nine more birthdays to act like a slightly irresponsible psuedo-adult, which looks like this:
In all honesty, I did not revel in my childhood; the first fourteen years of my life weren't my favorite. When I finally did start having some fun and calling the shots right around age 15, I realized (though not consciously) that, hey, life's pretty awesome, and I need to make up for lost time.
Maybe that's why I haven't had kids yet -- because I've been too busy reclaiming some of the fun I'd missed during my own kid-hood. (Don't worry would-be grandmas and aunties, the kiddies are coming.....but don't go storming Babies R Us for crocheted beanies and nipple shields just yet.)
So what did I do to commemorate my amazing feat of surviving 11,315 days on this Earth without dying? Hit the BEACH, of course! I made a little video of our trip to the Coromandel Peninsula, where we visited three world-famous beaches: New Chums, Cathedral, and Hot Water. Click here to watch: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rdKZ3w28rqw
The Coromandel Peninsula really portrays New Zealand's tendency for dichotomies. Ya know, the kind of place where you stumble upon a farm tractor parked on the beach.....
....or a peacock begging like a dog for your lunch.....
Thirty-one, here I come!
