Friday, March 2, 2007

On Being Thirty, Post #1

I know that I am supposed to be really bothered by the fact that I am going to be turning 30 in a month, but really, I have good days and bad days about it.

I woke up this morning, and I realized one reason why it isn't a super big deal is because I don't think of myself as 30. Hell, not even 29 or 28. My "Matrix" mind (that self-residual in your mind of what you look like, what you act like) thinks of myself as 25. Skinny. (Moderately skinny.) Funny. Fun-loving. Hot. And 25.

Now, why 25, I have no idea. My twenty-fifth year of existence wasn't particularly exciting or thrilling. I was in grad school, and English professors do a pretty good job of sucking your will to live on a fairly regular basis, so I wasn't living the high life or anything.

But when people ask me how old I am, I usually have to stop and think, "Twenty-five. No. that's not right. How old am I again? Oh, that's right, 29. Almost 30." But not because I feel like lying or that "I will be 25 from now on, until I turn 35. Then I will be 30." Nothing like that. I just don't think of myself as 30.

To me, being 30 is being a mature adult. With bills, and a husband, and kids. You know, respectable. But I am none of those things. Yes, I have bills, but I also can go do whatever I want, when I want. I can go out to the Outback and eat $35 worth of food and not feel bad and wonder if I am going to get into trouble when I get home. I can come home at 2:30 in the morning, and no one is waiting up for me, wondering where the hell I have been. I can go to the movies when I want. And to whichever movie I want to see. There are no compromises in my movie-going experience, something that a respectable, mature adult would have to contend with. I don't have to worry about anything like that. So, in my mind, no worries equates to still being in college, and still being a fun-loving single. A 25-year-old single.

(But then I have a bad day, and I realize that I am almost 30, and still single, and alone. And that, my dear reader, is a really bad day.)

5 comments:

Tracy said...

Yeah, I've stopped remembering how old I am, too. For some reason, whenever I am asked my age I think (or say) "thirty-one." Because I truly BELIEVE I am thiry-one. Then I'm like..."No, wait! Thirty...two? Three? Yes, I am thirty three!" Sad, huh?

Micaela said...

No, it isn't sad. It's obviously normal if WE are doing it.

The Giant said...

What can I say? At 19 I thought I was 21 (all my friends were). At 25 I could never remember - "I'm twenty...something." At 30 I figure I've been so inaccurate for so long, why bother?

Micaela said...

My friend, Emily, emailed me this:

"Hey you just hold on a minute..............lol
You do realize I'm going to be 31 this year,right? Being 30 doesn't mean you have to have a husband, children, etc etc.....of all my friends that are 30 or 30+..well let me give you the stats, briefly of course.

Married: 4 (and 1 friend who is GOING to be 30 in Sept)

Divorced: 2 (and 1 who was supposed to have gotten that done 2 years ago and STILL hasn't)

Children: 2 and 1 is the friend who is nearing 30

Responsible: definitely the 1 who is nearing 30 and 1 other. The rest of us have our moments (some many more than others) of course because we are all employed!! However, we do occasionally act like complete fools.

Bills: ALL of us

Yes by and large I had a much more exciting life between the ages of 18-26. But let's clarify that for
just a minute: I was still tumbling so I was able to
travel, I was in college, and I lived in my parents' house till I was 21. However, I had far less $$, many many more AMs where I wished I was dead from consuming WAY too many drinks, I don't have any homework to cram in or tests to study for, and I had some more reasons, but I can't seem to bring them out now. Gimme a sec and maybe I'll think of more....:)
I will say this: 29 was a much harder idea for me than 30 for whatever reason, because I am single I can do whatever I want whenever I want, I never have
to think in that god awful term of "We", I always have control of the remote, I have the entire bed to
myself--no other person sleeping diagonally or heating up the bed because he's like a human radiator (would I prefer company most nights? Of course!!!! but it's
always nice to have the bed to myself), I only have to attend 1 neurotic family's holiday events instead of multitudes like my married friends, and I still get
carded everywhere I go! I hand over the driver's license, and immediately the person at the gas station ALWAYS says, "You don't look 30!" HA!!! Screw you
media and what you say 30 SHOULD look like! hahahahahahaha Ok enough of my rant.......really, 30
isn't bad. I promise."

Himself said...

I am timeless. Of course, this does not help you in any way, but then, that is not My job. Perhaps you have yet to embrace certain truths that will help you achieve twoness with the Universe. I say twoness, because there is no oneness, that is a lie.

Truth number 1: Believe that you are better than anyone else. Not better than Me, of course, that would be foolish.

Truth number 2: Like fine wine, gold bullion, and Peeps, you will only improve with age.

Truth number 3: Remind yourself that when the time comes that you look like a shrivelled mummy reanimated by necromancers that you have cunningly chosen to look old and weak to lure your enemies into a false sense of security. Then you will strike. It will not be pleasant. It will not be quick. They will not enjoy it.

Truth number 4: You never get fat, you simply store food internally to confound your enemies feeble attempts to poison you.

Truth number 5: You are alone because your body radiates such power that lesser mortals (see number 1) are consumed by your emanations. Thus, to preserve the human race (Why? Because you are merciful.) you choose to avoid those whose fragile minds and bodies cannot survive your awesome presence.

Truth number 6: You are My friend. So few are they who are blessed. They shall live forever in perpetual bliss. Happy are they who feed our hunger with their eyes.