Friday, February 15, 2008

so...i was born 30 years ago...tomorrow.

One of the many joys and pains of me and Hannah's weekend outings in NYC used to be our trips to the Union Square Forever 21. We'd look, from the outside in, with squinted faces, avowing, "I hate this store." Yet we trudge forward anyway, in hopes of finding that $12 top that didn't look $12. And it happened often; but even more often, we walked out empty-handed and disgruntled and cursed ourselves for engaging in the heathen-like shopping practices of "those teeny boppers."

Back then Hannah was around 25, and I was 27 or 28, and I would whine "I'm too old for forever 21" and she'd soothe my ego by telling me "no,you're not." This is all sorta-kinda, in a round-about way leading up to me saying that I think I'm ready. Well, no, I AM ready. I have to be, right? The big 3-0 is one day away, and I'm decidedly ready to turn in my 20s card and embrace it. Whatever IT is.

In another anecdote, I was chatting with one of my BF's buddies at a favorite coffee shop a couple months ago--and I threw in that I was approaching that feared age on which many a chick-lit novel and self-help books are hinged. He goes -- "Oh, that's the BIGGIE." I want to scowl at him, "Biggie my ass!" but I can't. I'm a grown-up, and besides he was a very nice guy. And I couldn't be bothered by him--he's a boy...probably mid-20s guy who's been thrown into the awkward fire of my torment and knows of no other way of putting it out other than to give an over-used, empathy-soaked response. So, I told him, to make both of us feel better, "It's okay though. I'm ready. At least for the actual, technical turning-a-year-older part. That's nothing. I guess what I'm not quite ready for is the societal-pressure-of-turning-30 part. Like, will I still be able to make the mistakes of my 20s without people telling me I'm "too old for that"? Will I still be accepted if I continue to behave like the big kid that I am?" Yes, I said all that. Then, afterwards, I thought, "Did I just make a plea for societal acceptance? Is turning a year older making me actually care about stuff like that"? No way, I shutter at the thought.

When I was younger, I told a lot of my girlfriends that were turning 30--"now you're a real woman!" How silly, but sweet eh? But that's not true for everyone. I'm already a real woman. All the mistakes and holes I've crawled out of and triumphs and sadnesses and fuck yous and changes that have happened in year 29 have prepared me for the worst and best of whatever is to come for me in my 30s.

Now for more of what I'm looking forward to in my 30s:

♥ gray hair (I think it's beautiful)
♥ the unstoppable sex drive i've heard so much about
♥ being brave(r)
♥ children (mine and those of my friends)
♥ nurturing my REAL friendships
♥ moving back to NY, and being able to afford my own apartment **fingers crossed**
♥ learning to drive (no, i've never had/learned to)
♥ dinner parties (sooo grown-up)
♥ buying a car maybe (although I don't like them one bit)
♥ going to Europe
♥ getting more financially stable (bye bye debt!)
♥ not givin' a fuck, more often
♥ more people telling me "you look 23." yow!
♥ life with my 26-year-old heart throb
♥ my book (hey hey now)
♥ more of this blog

Oops, memory's fading already. I don't remember who took this photo.


Hannah said...

uh, back then? you mean last time we saw each other in ny, over the summer? back then when? we always go to forever 21...i don't know what you're going on about...and we're still always going to go as long as it's there in union square - because we get bored and there's air conditioning inside...and you're still going to go when you move back to ny...this by the way is a very pretty blouse...

BACK THEN!!! ha!

Chubbs said...

Yes, you're right...I'll ALWAYS go to Forever 21...I can't help it! I went today in fact! Sheesh. And yes, that's a pretty top.

rashad said...

Happy Birthday to you. Welcome to the 30s..

etoilee8 said...

I hate Forever 21 too. I hate the way it looks like a rainbow puked in there. I hate how everything you buy, turns to crap in the washing machine, I hate the loud obnoxious music and the confused salespeople. I avoid it like the plague (except when I need a cheap necklace, then it's all cooooool). Happy belated birthday!