Wanna Be Ballar, Shockallar, 20" blades on the Impala.

at some point you need to live up to what you are. I have said this before, but in my mind I am still 22. In reality I am on the downward slide to 30. At 22 you have fast cars, fast times, and stupid woman. These things are great, but eventually you have to grow up. Your focus switches to retirement plans, sensible automobiles, and a well balanced diet.

I first noticed a change when I went to my parents house last week. I was hungry and decided an exploratory evaluation of the frig was needed. In my youth I can remember their frig being filled with cokes, hot pockets, bolonga, and other tasty processed meats, cheeses, and junk food. Now, my options were organic bean sprouts, low fat yogurt, skim milk, and whole wheat. I sighed to myself thinking, I guess I will settle with a non fat weight watchers bar that tastes like cardboard with raisins. I think I would have had better flavor and enjoyment if I had taken a knife and fork to my boots, but I needed them for work.

Not that I am better at my house. The frig reflects, turkey instead of red meat, skim milk, heart healthy/cholesterol lowering cereal, and 100% fruit juices. But alas, I have decided attempting a healthy life is better than living a short uncomfortable one.

Along with this, I got my new company car on Friday. I traded in a Grand Prix (GP) for a new Impala. The GP was awesome. It was sleek, fast, and had the body of sports car. I was able to tear up the roads and make the woman swoon. Now, I have the sensible car. The sedan with impressive gas mileage and stylish body commanding a young professional aire. It's not a bad car at all and I do like it. Now I didn't select this car with the mindset of being more professional and achieving accessories to lead me to mentally realize my age. No, I chose this care because the GP was no longer an option. I was willing and ready to hold fast to the mind games of being younger than I am. Small steps.

Truth be told I don't think I will ever act my age. I don't even think most people act their age. My outside may be forced to middle age, but my mind, my mouth, and my silver tongue will keep me young for years. However, if I you see me wearing gray polyester pants up past my belly button with a nylon belt, constantly complaining about anything, do me a favor...smack me around a bit. The directions on my map are short but adequate..."Second star the the right and on till morning."