When we first moved to our house as a young, just married couple we met the neighbors two doors down. They were our age, had moved in a few months before us and married a month after we did.

Little did we know that after a brief conversation over a rusted chain-link fence we would become the best of friends. Amy left a potted red geranium on our door step one afternoon with a little sign that read - “Welcome to the Neighborhood!” That sign still hangs on my fridge.

We talked off and on and ate dinner once or twice as we got to know them. Winter came and our outdoor encounters became few and far between. In what can only be described as “something June Cleaver would do” Amy came over in February 2002, stood in my kitchen all smiley and giddy asking for a cup of milk. It took only a few seconds for her to burst with the news she was pregnant!

Surprise! I am too! (Apparently we had both kept quite busy over the winter.) She was due in November and I was due in early August. Our friendship grew as we planned and prepared for our expanding families. By the time our little ones arrived our lives intertwined.

As first-time mom’s we went through all the stages together. Weekends and evenings were spent together grilling, playing cards and just hanging out with the little ones. The boys quickly became best buddies.

Amy and I both had summers off, so we spent our time at parks and walking the neighborhood. We talked a lot about planning our next pregnancies at the same time. Of course, life happens and the timing didn’t work.

She came over one afternoon in December 2004, after my car accident, stating she thought she might be pregnant. I had a test in the bathroom cabinet and what do you know….she was! So we planned a dinner with our families that evening and watched as she shared the news with her husband.

Their second son arrived in August 2005 and I just happened to be in the hospital when she went in. I remember her walking around in my room and visiting after labor had started. It was so hard seeing them experiencing joy in a place that had caused me a lot of pain.

A few months later they moved into a larger house on the other side of town. In an attempt of self-pity I let jealousy and envy come between my friendship with her.

She had what I wanted. A baby. A new house. Happiness & good health. What seemed like it all.

As some distance, not measured by miles, grew between us I realized what I needed most was her friendship.

Did anyone happen to watch Friday night’s Miss Teen USA pageant on TV? Me either. But I did catch a video of Miss South Carolina answering her question.

QUESTION: “Recent polls have shown that a fifth of Americans can’t locate the U.S on the world map. Why do you think this is?”

Miss South Carolina’s ANSWER: “I personally believe that U.S. Americans are unable to do so because uh some people out there in our nation don’t have maps and uh I believe that our education like such as in South Africa and the Iraq everywhere like such as and I believe that they should our education over here in the U.S. should help the U.S. or should help South Africa and should help the Iraq and the Asian countries so we will be able to build up our future for.”

WHAT?!?!?!? Can you like understand like any of that?

If she had just let it go at “people out there in our nation don’t have maps” she may have been alright. It’s relevant with education and poverty.

It’s really no wonder most of society views these pageants as a joke. Trying to combine beauty, boobs, and brains….and then finding that in each state to parade around in a bikini for hosts like the D-listed Mario Lopez from Saved by the Bell is a joke!

At the root of this is always money. Look who owns this organization – Mr. Donald Trump. We all know he likes his wives young and plastic.

Not all those who compete in these pageants are bimbo’s. I understand there are scholarships at hand and even some real life experience. Many have gone on to create scandals from underage drinking, model for Playboy and you know, basically changed the world.

But seriously she placed THIRD with that answer….which to me says only one thing. This competition is not based on intelligence or talent; it’s based solely on looks.

Something tells me that given a map Miss South Carolina couldn’t identify the U.S. either.

Whew, it’s over. I’m officially 30 and there is nothing I can do about it. The festivities (which included many, many lunches & dinners) have ended and once you blow out the candles all you have left is the smoke.

Thanks for all the well wishes and sympathy. Much appreciated. Now I find myself sitting before a desk full of paperwork that needs to be done, but remembering it’s a Monday and that I’m usually not motivated until mid-week for that type of work.

So instead I want to talk about reality TV ~ my unhealthy obsession. Even 30 year olds watch it!

Who will admit to watching Big Brother? I do! I was happy to see Jen go last Thursday, but I’m sad Dick and Danielle didn’t get nominated last night. If ever a two whiney butts needed to go, it’s them! They are good players though.

As for The Real World, I haven’t really gotten into it this season. Maybe I’m over all the drinking and sleeping around?

The Hills totally has my heart. I’m Team LC all the way!!!!! I read that Spencer is using Heidi for fame (no, really?).

All kinds of drama happened over the weekend with the stars. See what happens when I turn 30?

You can go check it out for yourself at TMZ, but here is a recap - Owen Wilson may or may not have committed suicide. Either way he’s in the hospital. As is/was Hulk Hogan’s son, Nick.

Fast cars and fast lifestyles lead to crashes of some sort.

As my 30th birthday approaches tomorrow I have been asked the same questions over and over again.

“Do you feel any different?”

“Is it depressing turning 30?”

The one question anyone has yet to ask is -

“Is this where you thought you’d be at 30?”

The answer is no.

I have always lived by short-term goals. Forget planning so far ahead. I just need to have an outline on how my life should go over the next few years. Life is so much easier to picture when you aren’t focusing on the distant future. Everything looks manageable and glamorous in the present.

In high school the goal was to finish high school and go away to college. Check.

Once in college the goal was to finish college (ok, there was an extra year in there I didn’t plan for) and then find a job. Check.

The next goal was to marry, buy a house and start a family. Check.

Everything fell into place just as I had planned.

My husband turned 30 about a month ago. Our goals by this age were to buy a larger house, be more secure financially and most importantly have another child. This is how we expected our lives to go.

Life interrupted us a few years ago and rearranged things just a bit. Three years ago my husband was praying that I live to see my 30th birthday. All of a sudden a larger house didn’t seem to be the short-term goal.

In all honesty the first year after the car accident I didn’t think I’d see 30 either. My whole world was crumbling. In the midst of my own pain I watched the sudden short-term goals of my cousin fall apart as well.

The world was starting to seem like a cruel, evil storm that wouldn’t end. So why keep fighting?

Because for a reason I will never completely understand I am here to blow out candles on my 30th birthday. Goals change. Things happen.

I’m not planning short or long-term goals anymore. Instead I strive to do the best with what I’ve got, each day I’m given.

Remember the wedding of my husband’s co-worker we were invited to? The one where we found out they planned to return any items off their registry for cash.

We attended it this weekend and in case you are wondering what we gave them ~ it was a “re-gift.” Something I received for Christmas and had no real use for, but it made a nice wedding present and cost me nothing. Considering it will more than likely be on Ebay or in a garage sale very soon I don’t feel too bad.

Back to the wedding. It was 100 degrees outside this weekend and it was an outdoor wedding. A gazebo was center stage for the ceremony with white folded chairs for guests. Which was nicely decorated and would have been beautiful near the woods or a lake….but not next to a highway!

It was a rather small event and we could not hear a word the preacher was saying. The semi trucks roaring by drowned out the music as well. One person honked as they passed. Congratu-honking-lations!

But if you think that choice in location was odd, wait until I tell you where the reception was held. Right next door to the ceremony in the party room of a truck stop. No kidding. It was a true truck stop reception.

Complete with a fried chicken catered dinner and slurpee’s. I have a rule about eating at gas stations, so I didn’t chomp down on a thigh, the slurpee was another story. Now the only thing that could have made this any better would be if they’d made a wedding cake out of chocolate ho-ho’s.