  As senior year approaches, I've been thinking a lot about how I stack up against my peers in terms of maturity. Its hard to say where I stand because in certain areas it seems like I'm ahead of the game but, as I'm my own worst critic, I know that deep down I'm a kid. Not all that kid at heart kind of crap. I'm a kid. As you know from my profile and previous posts, I very much enjoy playground games like dodgeball and kickball. That's okay.
you may say, those are actually becoming hip again. No, I think I like them at a different level than the twentysomethings who have founded those leagues. To illustrate my point, I will tell you, the faceless and nameless, that I still am tempted to buy G.I. Joes. Very tempted. When I was at Target reserving my limited edition of Halo 2 as I said yesterday, I wandered done the toy aisle.
Not to reminisce. To see what they had in the way of my favorite action figures. I was pleasantly surprised. Besides vehicles, they had figures in two packs for seven bucks and three packs for nine. There was a Cobra three pack and I probably would have bought it if I didn't already have the Cobra Commander. I pulled myself away with my last vestige of dignity (I was admiring them alongside a six-year-old) and left to find my mom and youngest brother.
But today, at Fred Meyer's it came at me again. I even avoided the toy department in fear of another test of willpower, but Satan had other plans. Browsing the school supplies, waiting for my the same brother, I spied a discount table. Bored, I went over to it. There was my second temptation. A Cobra plane.
That converted to a hydrofoil. On sale. As I have neither a plane or boat for the bad guys, this almost proved to great for me to overcome. But after almost three minutes of indecision, I somehow stopped myself and left. But I fear the third temptation, my friends. Even as I write this I am choking down regret that I did not purchase these infantile delights.
I am growing weak. I fear I cannot leave the house lest I revert back to my seven year old self. And the rationalizer in my wants to ask you, am I so wrong? Is what I desire so bad? Tell me your opinion of my plight, dear reader. I feel so alone. 
