Thirty, and flirty, and thriving?

Tonight I cajolled L into watching 13 Going on 30. I think he enjoyed it, but there was a definite disconnect for him. While I sat there bouncing on the couch, emoting right along with "Love Is A Battlefield" and wondering why I don't wear my hair in a side pony anymore, he merely chuckled once or twice. It's definitely one for the girls. I didn't really want to like the movie for some reason. Perhaps it's Jennifer Garner's preternatural adorableness that put me off. She's just so friggin cute. But she really was enchanting. But I am most definitely not feeling "thirty, flirty, and thriving." I had a tough time turning 30 this year, and the miasma of my discontent still lingers as I stare down 31. I'm still caught in the how did this happen, where did the time go, where did my figure go, when did people my age get old enough to have kids, shouldn't I stop freaking out and spraying air freshener every time the doorbell rings unexpectedly, and why are they using The Cure in commericals phase. No one ran that idea by me, and I'm just not ok with music from my generation being used that way. And the fact that when I see kids and their music and their culture and their style today I shake my head and just can't relate... well, that's just not right. I know I'm supposed to embrace 30. It's the new 20, right? Shyeah. It's the same old 30. And if I'm being honest it hasn't been all bad. It just hasn't been jet-setting to St. Tropez with a stable of male models and a cadre of glamorous successful friends, either, which is what I expected life to be like at 30 when I was 13. Maybe when I'm 40.