Here's to Never Growing Up

It should come as no shock to you that I'm a twelve year old. I look like one, I act like one, hell I wish I still was one (hello no bills and boys having cooties). But this should come as no shock to you, unless you're new around these blog parts and if that's the case then you should probably read my "Chronicles of a 12 Year Old" posts over here. Or if you're too lazy for that then just take a look at my face because it screams "I belong in middle school carrying a Lisa Frank binder singing Ace of Base in my neon pink jelly shoes". Don't believe me? Fine, I'll prove it. With six sets of pictures showing you that I'm still doing the same shit I did back back in the good ol' days.

ONE: The face - it hasn't changed a damn bit. I grew out that helmet head of bangs as soon as I was introduced to butterfly clips and could pin them back but other than that and the touch of's all the same. I smirk like a true pro.

TWO: I dress up for all the holidays. Rocking the santa hat from two to twenty two.

THREE: The bathing suits may have gotten smaller and my butt might have gotten bigger (alright it definitely got bigger) but I can still bum it on the beach and build sandcastles like a little kid.

FOUR: Oh and I can rock some pretty sweet goggles while I'm there too. Looking good Erin, real good.

FIVE: Dressed up as a rabbit for Halloween when I was eight. Dressed up as a Playboy bunny for a sorority party when I was eighteen. Okay so this one does slighty prove that I've grown up a bit 'cause I sure hope I wasn't trucking my half naked butt to frat parties with a Playboy tee on.

SIX: The puppies. Duh. I loved 'em then and (obviously) I love them now. Thank god I grew out of those headbands though, whoa buddy.

Now I'm off to go put my Brit Brit cd in my Walkman, get out my Beanie Babies, and play some M.A.S.H. I'm hoping for the Mr. and Mrs. Smith version of Brad Pitt, a mansion, a white BMW X5, 2.5 kids, and job of being a stay at home mom. Thanks.

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