31 Going On 13? And a Name Change?

I'm 31 years old today. It's my birthday. Should I be jumping for joy? Not quite feeling up to that just yet. Maybe after I drink those margaritas this afternoon. I'll throw in a few cartwheels at that point.

I am NOT changing the name of this blog though! "Mandy's Life After 31" - that sounds so horrible. Nope, even when I'm 88 years old, if I'm lucky enough to still be able to see or type on a computer, I will be blogging on my life after 30. So there! :-)

According to my mom, I entered the world in a hurry 31 years ago. Yes, apparently I was impatient even back then. On August 12, 1978, I was nearly born in the car on the way to the hospital. But alas my mom was able to keep her legs closed (unlike the 9 months prior, hahaha, kidding mom).

At 3:23 a.m., Mandy Claire was born at the Terrebonne General Hospital in Houma, Louisiana. I was a sassy Cajun girl ready to conquer the world. My mom says I was a fairly good baby and a pretty decent kid. When I was a teenager though, I had so much sarcasm that they wanted to sell me to the highest bidder. (No takers though). Thankfully I later lightened up, stepped down from my soap box and became an adult.

My name is simply Mandy. Have I said that before? It's not Amanda, although I often am called that by people. My mom liked Barry Manilow. It could be worse, right? She could have named me Copacabana.

Timing is sometimes perfect and last week a friend from my childhood posted these photos of me on my facebook page. (Thanks a lot Lisa!) I am 13 years old in these pictures. Since now I'm the reverse of those digits, I find it interesting to look back at that wacky girl. Yes, I was a nut even back then! Look how dramatic I am being! I'm still like this from time to time (and I wonder where my daughter gets it from?) I had a good laugh at myself remembering these old times.





I wish I knew what thoughts were in my head at those moments? Perhaps there were no thoughts at all, what with all that Aqua Net hairspray soaked into my brain. (Perms should be illegal).

Now at age 31, I don't wish to relive being 13 again. Those days are done. I don't need my Tom Hanks moment in Big or my Jennifer Garner moment in 13 Going on 30. I'll watch my daughter go through it soon enough.

And I don't want to conquer the world. I'd simply like to leave a small mark, a tiny impression that makes a difference. I'd like to give something back to all the wonderful people who have been so kind to me. I'm not sure yet how I will do this, but I'll spend my life figuring it out.

In the meantime, while I ponder over being an old lady, I will bake myself a bleeding armadillo cake, just like the one from the Steel Magnolias movie. Now if only Ouiser Boudreaux would come over to cut off a big slice of the ass just for me?! Because if you can't be an ass on your birthday, when can you be? ;-)



Mmm, blood red and delicious! Happy birthday to me!