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02.18.2004 - 7:18 p.m.


So today, to my roaring twenties: (with apologies to Sinead O'Crazy) this is the last day of our acquaintance. Tomorrow is the day all the hippies can no longer trust me.

When JB turned thirty last summer and I cast my eye ahead to my own drenchy grey February date, I felt the same sort of trepidation/contentment/myeh combo I feel now.


O kvetch, o moan, why o why must I age? Can I not stay preserved in amber, ever innocent and lacking in crow feet?

I can't deny it, I'm a little freaked out. Thirty. It's not that I think it sounds old, I guess I stopped thinking that in my mid-twenties. It's just that thirty seems like - I don't know, it seems like this point on your Life game where your little fucking plastic car is supposed to pick up more pegs, you know? JB's on the sidelines waving the big flag saying GO GO GO FAMILY!! and I'm like, uh? I am, like, unable to keep my flowering cactus from drooping in neglect on a monthly basis?

And at the same point I'm clinging, marsupial-like, to some notion of youth and irresponsibility, I'm marching smartly along this path of banal suburban life, with my ill-advised forays into - the debauchery! - bath salt making, and my husband's endless yammerings about Should We Get a Boat Or Maybe Build A Garage Which Do You Think Honey and my stupid obsession with making the purple towels in the guest bathroom work SOMEHOW DAMMIT.

What did I expect, exactly? Well, when I was younger, I couldn't imagine anything, because I was gonna live fast and die young. Or something. Now I feel, sometimes, like I'm skidding along a greased plank and grabbing at anything that I can use as an excuse for Not Growing Up. "I was going to have this great career!" "I never used that 'potential' thing my teachers talked about!" "Why haven't I made out with an Australian???"

Which leads me to…


Here is something I realized recently. Whenever I have this floaty thought of the Great Career I was meant, nay, DESTINED to have? First of all, I went to high school for all of four consecutive seconds, so I don't fucking deserve anything. Second, I have it. It's happening to me right now.

I have bitched and bitched about Workplace, and I don't take back a single solitary whinging word, but this job is like no other I will ever have in my entire life. It's not always rewarding. It's not always fun. I am not propelled to stardom because of it. But it is something amazing, in its own way. It's my career, and it's what I've got at the moment, and I am blessed for it.

When I look my feelings of non-accomplishment dead in the eye, what I can take from that are some ideas for the future. Rather than sitting around bemoaning the things I haven't done, I can think realistically about the things I want to do. I want to travel. I want to be more healthy. I want to write.

I'm in a good place. I'm (only!) thirty, I've got everything in front of me.

Except an Australian. Damn wedding vows.


Thirty, shmirty. I love holidays, but my zest for celebration doesn't extend to my own birthday. It's embarrassing, this idea of 'whoo hoo! Pay attention to me! Because I was born!', you know? Thirty is just a number, just like all the other numbers that have happened and will happen in my life. I'm just glad to, you know, be here.

JB has already given me an incredible present, by arranging for my family to come over for dinner (delivered!) tomorrow evening. It will be the first time all of us are together in my house, and I'm really looking forward to it.

Mom? Aunt Linda? I am seriously sorry about the dog hair. Please don't wear black.


PS. I do NOT mean to keep going on and on and on about the bath salts, but here is a Handy Tip From Me To You: do not store your Ass Biscuits in a manner which makes them look like cookies, or else your husband will be, um, TOTALLY pissed off.

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55 comments so far.

I have moved. - 1.03.2005
Obviously, a work in progress. - 12.27.2004
Happy holidays! - 12.24.2004
Listen, I am not a complete dick, it's not like I want Joe to die alone surrounded by cats or something. - 12.23.2004
Plus I am convinced my butt is extra big when it's upside down. - 12.22.2004

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