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Twelve Hours Left

 I feel like I need to write, just a little, about the fact that in twelve hours, I will no longer be in my twenties.

To start, a note to my life:

Dear Twenties,

Thank you for all of the amazing people that I never would otherwise have come to know and love.  Fuck you for everything else--most of that was awfully premature.  Really, you sucked so much more than I could have anticipated.  I suppose I am grateful for being stronger, but it would have been nice to have a little bit more fun between the bookending eras of awful that were 21-25 and 27-29.

Dear Thirties,

We are going to rock so much.



Less glibness, and more honest speaking of my thoughts behind the cut.

Many people meet their thirtieth birthday with a little apprehension, or resistance, or sadness.  I have to say that I am just not one of these people.  I can recognize, quite easily, that I am one of the luckiest people I know.  I don't have very much money--at all--but I can pay my bills right now performing and writing music, and I'm not having to live on the World's Most Terrifyingly Tight Budget.  I know a lot of people that would give a limb to be in my shoes.  

I have now spent half of my life away from California, a place that I was certain, until I was about twenty-five, that I always wanted to go home to.  Now, I'm less sure than ever of where I want to be, but I can be certain of a few things that ultimately are more important.  I have, absolutely, the greatest mother who I could have possibly drawn from the cosmic parental lottery.  I loved my dad, and I get a lot of my great qualities from him, but we were never close the way my mother and I always have been, and always remain.  She has helped me negotiate some of the impossible situations of my life, and she has done it with humor, open arms, and open doors.  She has never made me feel pressured to be like everyone else, and she has never made me feel judged, even if I am going about something in a way that she might not.  My mom is so fucking awesome, and I am thrilled that I get to be her daughter.

I also have the greatest friends that anyone could ever imagine.  Saturday night was a snowy affair here in Baltimore, and instead of heading to see the opening night bout for Charm City Roller Girls (which was canceled), The World's Greatest Roommate, Rusty and I all stayed in and had many, many margaritas.  Nate, Rusty and I have all known one another since we were fifteen, and here we are, fifteen years later, and we are all still really close.  I often encounter people that express relief that they never have to deal with anyone from their high school years again, but we were always a little different.  Our friendships went a little beyond proms and classes, and some of these people have become my family.  When I think about how much I loved and continue to love, I am practically breathless.  

And I'm pretty sure that at least two of those five people wouldn't just support me as my world is falling apart, but that they could also be trusted to help me hide a body, if ever we found ourselves within that hyperbolic cliche.

As I move through the world, I continue to meet people that I weave into the web of my life and hold very dear.  Some of my new friends, particularly a whole pack from the faire and one very tall city person, have proven to be some of the brightest, kindest, funniest, dearest people in the world.  When I think of how one tiny shift in the world would have kept me from knowing any of them, if I had let guilt overcome bravery and misplaced obligation overcome hope and wonder, I am just so, so grateful for the way it all turned out.  I know that I am happier and healthier than I would have been had everything shifted and gone the other way.

And to start my thirties here, in this place of gratitude and with a well populated tribe of amazing people...this tells me that the probability that this decade will be better than the last is very, very high.


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Feb. 1st, 2010 11:22 pm (UTC)
You deserve it, kid.

The upcoming goodness of your thirties, I mean. Not the crap that you were just railing against.

Feb. 1st, 2010 11:40 pm (UTC)
Happy birthday tomorrow! The letter to your Twenties was lovely, and I am glad for you that your are expecting awesome things for the next decade.

I loved turning thirty: I was, a bit like you, back on my feet after a rough time (not my whole 20s, by any means, but still), and I didn't exactly know who I was going to be forever, but I knew who I was right then. As well, I loved turning 30 because people almost immediately stopped responding to my life choices as if they were phases, and started treating them as if I were a grown-up who'd thought about her life and wants and needs.

I wish you joy, inspiration, good health & great friends, happy surprises & planned successes, and love & comfort, too. And, of course, good things to eat, especially on your birthday.
Feb. 2nd, 2010 02:39 am (UTC)
That's the best thing I've heard about 30s yet. The word crazy has been tossed at me, much to my highly thinky dismay. Hooray for that part! And thanks for your well wishes.
Feb. 2nd, 2010 08:29 pm (UTC)
Sometimes it's a really good crazy?
Feb. 2nd, 2010 11:55 pm (UTC)
Happy 30th! I was thinking of you, and actually signed into my email to send you a happy-30s note, just decided to take a short detour to the Reader, and lo and behold, you had written this! I too hope your 30s suck far less than your 20s (as a matter of fact, I hope they don't suck at all, but an entire decade of non-suckiness is quite a lofty goal). I miss you bunches and often, and have always and will always love you lots and lots.
Feb. 5th, 2010 07:48 pm (UTC)
Thanks sweetie. I miss you too.

I hope they suck a little so my head doesn't get too big. :)

Life is good, and it's been a really east, really lovely week.
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