Whatever the reason-de-jour, I think about little-me a lot. The thirteen-year-old version of Amy would be very impressed with our life right now. Trust. Not long ago, it occurred to me that 13-year-old Amy is also HALF-MY-AGE Amy. Like.. really truly one-half of my life has happened since I was thirteen.. When the fuck did that happen? Oh right. Over the past thirteen-or-so years.
Life's a little different than I thought it would turn out back then. I didn't end up with any of the shaggy-haired skateboard boys I crushed on back then.. I ended up with a shaggy-haired skateboard boy I crush on NOW. (We're far too sensible to ride skateboards now - I'm not saying we're old, but I do know that things ache now that never did before. Besides, we have cars and that wins.)
Once in awhile I think that maybe the 90s would have been SO MUCH COOLER if I had been more aware at the time of .. well, how cool the 90s were. Or maybe knowing would have ruined it.
Or maybe, maybe ... we just knew all along.