That Girl has been pretty quiet lately... biting her tongue and such. It's really more that I've been over-stressed, over-worked and underwhelmed. As I enter the last Monday of my 29th year of life, I've been quite reflective this weekend. In an effort to regain some sense of control over my life, I spent my whole weekend cleaning, organizing and trying to mentally purge some of the negativity that has been all consuming lately. Sometimes you just get those feelings that you can't shake, but I did get a sense of relief while separating my shirts and pants and hanging them all appropriately. I nearly had a moment like in the movie Running with Scissors where the two kids stood on the kitchen table with brooms destroying the ceiling tiles with all of their pent up angst. When asked why they did it, they simply replied "We needed high ceilings." I need more than high ceilings... I already have those.
I've received several text messages asking me about my upcoming birthday. In just over 3 days, I'll be 30. Truth be told, 30 is an age I never though I'd see. After all, at the ripe age of 13, I had an incredibly vivid dream in which I died at the age of 27. I had awoken with such a sense of peace as opposed to fear and panic, that I took it as truth. It's made the last 3 years almost surreal as I never expected to wake up during them but wasn't disappointed when I did.
Birthdays were never a big deal in our house as a kid. I can remember being little and having a Halloween themed costume party in the old stone basement at my parents old Victorian. As I got older, my birthdays lost their magic. I can remember my mother practically begging girls to show up for a sleepover here and there. It's hard to have friends when your the fat girl. Kids are just fucking cruel. As I became a young teenager, the birthday parties had all but ceased and seemed to even go unnoticed by my own family except for the occasional gift. The best birthday I ever had included lunch at McDonald's (we never ate fast food), several present for me to open, all wrapped elegantly and a chocolate cake. I somehow felt like this birthday was more out of pity as I was turning 16 and spent the entire afternoon at the hospital getting a CAT scan to see if I had a brain tumor. It wasn't a tumor, just a terrible migraine. Other than that, we never really celebrated birthdays. My older brother always got a homemade lemon cake from my mom... his favorite. My younger brother always got some weird St. Nicholas' day tradition of putting his shoes outside the bedroom door. When he awoke, he always had a few more goodies than the rest of us.
I always wanted a surprise party with all of my friends. I wanted a group of people to think about my birthday before I did. I wanted some handsome beau to send me a beautiful bouquet of flowers to my work with a simple note saying nothing more than "You are beautiful." with only his first name attached to the card, inciting a few whispers from coworkers. I wanted my family to throw me a dinner where they use the China and my siblings come because they want to be there, not because they are begged by my mother. I wanted a day to celebrate me. But who doesn't... right?
So far, I've had a wonderful lunch with my oldest friend who still manages to put up with my ass after all these years. She gave me a card with strict instructions not to open it until Wednesday, so far so good. Looking back on the last year, there's been a lot of changes and a lot of time lost. Looking back on the last 10 years, all I can say is... wow. I have grown so much, learned so much, made so many wonderful mistakes. I have been pushed, pulled, dragged and beaten. I have experienced love and hate and lust and rage, sometimes all at the same time. I have built up walls and broken them down and built them back up again.
I have tried new things... like online dating. Just a word of wise to the single 30 something men out there. If you are trying to impress somebody, do not, I repeat, DO NOT take professional photos with your cats. That's right, I said cats, plural, as in more than one. And even more importantly, DO NOT spoon your cat and pay someone to photograph it in hopes that it will find you a mate. It won't. My guess is, that's the only pussy that guy is ever gonna get.
I didn't make my weight loss goals, but I'm still thinner than I was at 17. I'm looking pretty good for my age... I think. Others may disagree... Skippy for example... well, he skipped out. No surprise there. I told you last time, I knew it was over but there was a part of me that still wanted to hope that he was gonna be different than all the others. I'm not gonna lie, I started to put another layer on the the ol' wall. There's a sense of loneliness that's been all encompassing lately. This city can get really fucking big sometimes.
I'm not really a futurist and maybe that's why it is so hard for me to deal with turning 30. I find it hard to believe that I have survived 30 years, let alone that I may live another 30. I am both terrified and excited to see what the future holds but I still want the flowers and a fucking chocolate cake. Is that too much to ask?
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