Well, here we are. May 28th. I have finally crossed that dark threshold.
I’m thirty today.
One of the first thing you learn about birthdays as a kid is how you don’t feel any different the next day. The difference between May 27th and May 28th is only a day, not a full year. (Actually, since I was born on a naval base in Yokosuka, Japan, at around three in the afternoon, my birthday’s either already over or tomorrow or something like that. I’m never entirely clear on that one.)
So I don’t feel any different today.
I’m more than ready for 29 to be over, though. If you’d asked me a year ago where I’d be on my birthday, I really wouldn’t have guessed I’d be seperated, most of a continent away, sitting on an immense porch looking at the Hollywood sign and planning a move that crosses the whole of the continental US. (I could probably have guessed “blogging.” That’s as far as I think I’d go.) Still, the best laid plans… 29–at least the back half of 29–was arguably the worst year of my adult life, definitely in the running for the all-time championship, and I am more than glad to see it recede in the tail-lights forever.
They say life begins at thirty. (My mother says hers began at 39, my stepfather notes that 30 was forty years ago, and all he can remember is that he had a much higher tolerance for alcohol back then.)
I have no particular plans for today, but we’ll see what the future holds!
It can only get better from here.