I Guess I Have to Start Looking at the “Skin in Your 30s” Category in Those Beauty Articles
Yesterday was my 30th birthday. It was a low-key day, luckily in the middle of a glorious three-day weekend. Family and friends sent their birthday greetings with good cheer, IP made the day all about me, and I mused to myself that 30 actually felt no different than 25. Except that I’m in a much better place at 30 than I was at 25. A lot of people mourn their 20s. Not me — there was good, there was bad, just like there will be good and bad during my 30s. The trick is to greet it all with some level of grace or, if you can’t muster that at the moment, grace later when you’re reflecting.
I was going to do a post about what I learned during my 20s, but I realized that learning what I learned during my 20s really had nothing to do with my 20s — it’s just learning what I learn as my life progresses. I don’t know if it’s wise to label those lessons as specific to those 3,650 days. How about I just say everything that’s happened before me helps to inform who I am today? How about I just say that what I learn within the next decade will help to inform future WordNerd? Actually, how about I stop buttressing my life by artificial markers in this post?
Anyway, just because I don’t care about the actual number doesn’t mean that the day wasn’t fun. It was nice to have friends come out of the woodwork to with me a good one. Friends forgetting my birthday is not something that I hold against them because I am terrible with dates (as I said to one friend over the past week, I only remember your birthday if I grew up with you or if you’ve become a member of my family in my mind). People forget the date all the time and I honestly don’t care. I have to admit, though, that seeing those emails roll in made me smile just a little. A friend also sent me some books that deal with spirituality. I don’t think that she’s trying to tell me anything other than what she’s into at the moment. I will try my best to read them, but I sometimes think I’m too practical and straightforward for self-help tomes. We’ll see, and it was the thought that counted.
It was nice to talk to my family as they wished me a happy day. I am now the age my father was when I was born: he informed me that 30 is indeed young and that he was a fast-living, hard drinking man at that time (tongue in cheek; there is no one as attentive to his family as my father is). Mom and Dad sent me a pair of shoes that I’ve been wanting, Big Bro A sent me a Target gift certificate that will be used to buy running outfits, and little sister Dorkus has my present in hand for when I visit next weekend. Mom and Dad apparently sent me something else, but that didn’t make it here in time. It probably should be here by Tuesday.
And finally, IP! IP went ahead and disregarded my strict injunction to not get me a Garmin Forerunner 405 and got me a Forerunner 405. Reason? My annual gift is a gym membership and I figure that’s quite enough. He argues that it will help me with my marathon training, and given that I did use my old Garmin during my 2006 training, I have to concede that I agree. The Forerunner’s not here yet because it appears to be quite difficult to find. It will ship as soon as it’s available (IP was told that shipment would occur within the next few days). Since my training doesn’t start for another month, it’s all good. So in addition to having a new BlackBerry, I have another nifty new gadget heading my way. I’m glad that IP understand my gadget obsession, but the fact that he indulges my obsession makes me squee with glee.
IP also indulged my pizza obsession last night, which was greatly appreciated (if I could have one meal for the rest of forever . . .). He bought an ice cream cake from Baskins-Robbins but we never got a chance to try the cake — the pizza must have been spiked with something because we went to sleep shortly thereafter. It was 8pm when we hit the hay. The day was obviously too exciting for us.
My, it really is tiring, being in the 30s.