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On to the next February holiday: my birthday. (Weren’t you celebrating? I thought you knew!) Yep, 34. I can’t say “the big 3-4”, because nobody says that. It’s kind of a lackluster milestone. I consider it a bonus, though, because I’ve been claiming to be 34 for the past few months – in preparation, I guess – so I had to stop and do the math. “2007 minus 1973…oh wait! Now I’m 34.” See? Younger by the minute.

Actually, the whole thirties thing has been a pleasant surprise. Yes, there are more responsibilities and time seems to be going by alarmingly fast. Still, I remember feeling more restless and insecure in my twenties. You know, like I wasn’t really living, and adulthood was not what I had imagined. The opinions of others – or what I imagined they were thinking, more to the point – mattered so much more. Really, I’m not sure what changed. One friend described it as hitting thirty and realizing that she did not have to listen to anyone’s crap anymore. That kind of sums it up. For me, I’ll listen, but it won’t affect my decisions all that much. Think my choices are frivolous, and I’m wasting my intelligence by staying at home, taking care of my family, and creating projects for myself for no apparent reason? That’s ok. I disagree, but I’m not mad at ya. That’s the comfort that was waiting for me in my thirties.

That’s not to say that sometimes I don’t feel old. Like when they play U2 on the classic rock station, or when my 17-year-old cousin talks about the great alternative radio station in her town: “They play new school alternative, and old school music, like Green Day.” Now, the craziest part of that story may be that I was driving at the time and almost ran off onto the shoulder of the freeway in my shock. I mean, “old school like Green Day”? Or watching the look of amazed horror spread across the face of another kid at church when I told her that I’d graduated high school in 1990, and then seeing the wheels turn as she did the math and realized that I was old. Ah yes, good times.

Anyway, it’s business usual around here, except that there were presents waiting for me around every corner today: a gift certificate waiting in my inbox, a beautiful basket of exotic dinner fixins from my sister-in-law when we met for our Thursday playdate (which really is “our” playdate more than it is for the kids, right?), and new books from my love when I got home. Now I think I’ll fix a delicious drink for myself and maybe watch a movie. It’s good to be the queen!

Have a beautiful day! 🙂


8 responses »

  1. happy birthday from txmx&gr. don’t take any crap.

  2. Hey you! Happy birthday you young thing! I do the same thing as you – for the last two months I’ve been 37, whereas I don’t actually turn it until June. By then I get really confused and think I must be about to turn 38, so it’s a pleasant surprise to discover that I’m actually a year younger than I thought. So sad, but so true.
    And I agree, the thirties are cool, although I’m getting to the end a whole lot faster than I’d like! Definitely time to stop taking any crap though.
    Anyway, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!

  3. Oh Meg!! I too will be 34 this year…and I agree with your post 100% …Well Said 🙂

  4. Happy Birthday! Yeah, that kind of sums up the thirties for me as well. Pretty nice, actually, feeling a lot calmer than in my twenties. Oh wait, were you talking about me wasting my intelligence at home and sewing things for no apparent reason? Yep, I think you were. :o)

  5. Happy Birthday! I like your view of the thirties. So far, my thirties have been great, no complaints at all. Wait, Green Day is old school? What??? I’m glad that I’m not around 17 year olds.

  6. Happy Birthday! If you think being in your 30’s is liberating, wait till you get to 40. It is amazing how your outlook changes so much by the decade.

  7. Happy Birthday! I’m not in my 30’s yet, but it sounds good to me! And no way is Green Day “old school”!

  8. Happy belated birthday! Hope it had unexpected pleasures. Your premature statement of age is a good strategy which I will have to adopt. The clerk at our local wine store always asks everyone their age and the last time I was there I cheerfully chirped “32!” and was nearly home when I realized, shoot, I’m 33. But misremembering my age in the other direction could be nice.


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