Turning 30…ain’t so bad!

I have been dreading turning thirty my entire life. When I was around 7, my mom had this awesome shirt that said, “29 and holding.” It was 1988 and my mom sported that sparkly iron-on shirt proudly usually accompanied by a bandana tied around her forehead. I asked her what the shirt meant and she said, “It means I’m not going to get old.” Since then, I’ve stuck to her motto: I’m not going to get old.

Speaking of awesome 1980’s tshirts…check out this one that my dad used to wear:

My parents have always been young. And FUN. I wanted to be like THAT. So, I vowed to never get old and forgot all about it. I played with Barbies, skied the mountains, traveled the world and then…somewhere after I turned 25 I realized….fuck, man…I don’t have a choice. I’m GOING TO GET OLD….

Turning 27...in costume

I’m not going to lie. I started panicking after turning 29. Twenty-nine was a rough year for me (E. Coli, break up, Master’s degree graduation with no job, etc etc etc) and I was going to hit thirty with NOTHING of what I thought I would have had.

I had a crisis. I started looking at old people with contempt. And by old, I mean anyone 30 – 45. I started cursing teenage boys who looked at me like their MOM. I would panic when someone asked me my age. I started defending my youth. I think once I even cried. I was freaking out…man.

No matter what I did, thirty was still coming. And then all of a sudden, it was here. It was happening (scream!). I met up with friends for dinner and somewhere between my first mango margarita and the second, I realized something kind of important: I had eleven of my great and good friends around me, a wonderful man who loves me by my side and I was pretty cool. Ya. Me. I am cool. Holy cow, was I finally over the angst of my 20’s?!? I was in that new realm of, “I am 30, hear me…philosophize?”

I shrugged, took off my down vest and the fun began. Several drinks later, we headed over to the only “dance club” in town. This is where I decided to let loose. Then, something happened. There was this euphoric moment of, “Yea, bitches! I’m thirty!” and I just couldn’t hold it inside.

That’s right. That’s me. IN GLOWSTICKS.

30 rocks.


5 thoughts on “Turning 30…ain’t so bad!

  1. I wouldn’t take my 20s back for NOTHIN’! I’m so pleased I went through them – and have made it OUT! I was scared, too, but now, somehow, being in my 30s feels… calmer. I have my issues, but there’s no more running from adulthood – it’s here. Having no choice but to accept that actually kinda makes things easier in some indescribably way. It’s nice here; I like it. Welcome šŸ™‚

  2. Dude, shout out to ME!! Nice pic! HAHHAA!!

    Oh- and yeah, thirty is way better than my 20’s thus far. I may not have DONE much with my 30’s but you know what? I care a whole lot less! I’m less stressed and worried about the “future” because I’m way more aware that the FUTURE IS NOW!

    Faster, faster, faster the clock goes, but yet, its slower. I can SIT and enjoy the MOMENT so much more now that I’m older. I sat for 35 minutes on the washer the other day, just starring at the rug. I was thinking “I like this rug” and “its pretty” and “I’ve been starring at this rug for 20 minutes, and I”m going to remember this moment for a long long time” I try hard everyday to make little “moments” like that.

    Sorry I missed your party. 3000 miles is dumb.

    • Dude, our adventures have been most epic together. That costume party was the best birthday. Seriously, so awesome. I feel the same way about 30 so far. I haven’t done SHIT but dude, I feel like my shit is way more put together…so that’s something. I sit on the couch a lot and do that deep thinking thing. HA. I thought it was only me. I can sit for a good hour and just be devoured in my own thoughts. I always thought it was weird that my grandpa did that. Now I get it. God, am I comparing myself to a q-tip?? We have GOT to get together this winter. Snowboarding, skiing, whatevs. Let’s make it happen.

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