fake 30

10:16 AM



I'm skipping 29.

My 20's were not my favorite. Don't get me wrong, I had a lot of really amazing times in them. I met a lot of great people, some of which are my best friends, I got a job that I have really learned to love even if it's stressful sometimes and I think I've finally gotten to know who I am and accepted her because she's pretty great. I saw a million amazing concerts, I went to Italy, I WENT TO ITALY, I learned how to be on my own before I was married and again after I was married. I became a dog person. I got some tattoos. I learned how to appreciate a fine, red wine. Garth Brooks decided to tour again. Someone told me something I wrote touched them. I lost friends, made some new ones, reconnected with others. The local band I grew up with reunited. I settled on green as my favorite color. I decided I like my coffee black. Pizza is still my favorite food even if I hardly ever eat it.

Even with all of that goodness, there was still some shit. And it was big shit. But you get through it, right? And I did and I will continue getting through it for a while I think. Besides that I have little to complain about and strangely enough I've been reminded of that over the last several days. I have friends that will do anything for me whether they have the means to or not. Little things. Calls, messages, flowers, movie nights, sangria nights. They'll go dancing with me or listen to me talk about music or TV they may not care about. They visit me when I'm feeling low and don't want to leave my house unless it's within walking distance because I hate losing my parking spot (I'm working on that). They've become part of my family. There are people I've met this decade that I consider my best friends and more, some of which I never expected I would connect with at all. There are people I've met this decade that I know I'll have with me for the rest of my life if I have anything to say about it. I'm extremely lucky in that aspect. I have co-workers that have also become family. This was completely unexpected after changing work environments this time last year. I never thought I'd have the relationships with some of them that I do and I love it. I have people there that are concerned and protect me and will listen to me when I have to rant about something or another. It's insane. And then I have my family. We have our things and our issues and we don't always like each other. I learned this year that my sister is turning into quite the lady that I want to be friends with. She has a lot to offer. My parents (all three of them) have offered me more advice that I've wanted and didn't want, and probably split more beer or wine with me than anyone this year. My brothers, though I haven't seen much of them, have been a great source of conversation to me and Chelsey (she belongs to Christian) is someone I would definitely call a sister to me and her friendship has been an important one.

So why, with all of this amazingness, do I want to skip ahead? It's just time. I need a change. I've changed a lot the last few years and as I said earlier, I definitely think I'm aware of what kind of woman I am and want to continue to be. I'm comfortable with my look and my style and my tastes and my hair color and my combat boots and my nose ring and my chipped nail polish. I'm just ready to move on, so I am.

There is an episode of Sex and the City that I watch the week of my birthday on repeat every single year. Season 4, episode 1. Really, it's only the last 10 minutes that speak to me but like Carrie, I hate my birthday. I can count on three fingers the memorable birthdays I've had (2006, 2008, 2009). Other than that, they've just been days. Carrie is talked into a dinner for her birthday and no one shows up. Not on purpose but life gets in the way and the longer she sits alone at that table the more she realizes that in truth, even with all of the greatness she has, she is alone in some ways too. That feeling is palpable and it has one that I think it sort of ingrained in my head some days. I've felt that. I've essentially been there. Once she's had enough she has a miserable walk home after paying $70 for her own cake (WTF REALLY). She comes home to 14 messages on her answering machine with various explanations about where everyone is and, in my opinion, says "fuck this, I'm taking a shower." Charlotte comes to pick her up and take her to the coffee shop (against her will because that's how Charlotte rolls) and that's when she utters the thing we're not supposed to say. It sucks to be alone sometimes.

I'm going to take that a different way than Carrie means it because in truth, I enjoy my alone time. I enjoy it a lot more than most people, especially lately. That doesn't make me sad or depressed or suicidal, I just like to be on my own and worry about myself and no one else. Maybe it's irresponsible, but whatever. I love having friends and family and co-workers. I love having a relationship with someone I can trust and talk to and be in love with, but I'm very much okay being alone as well. I take her statement as that there are days where it really does suck to be on your own. There are days where I want more and want different things for myself and I can wish and dream but I really do like having my own time and space. I guess it's really hard for me to put into words why I connect so much with this particular sequence of scenes from an HBO show that's over 10 years old, but I do. Probably like every woman out there connects with it in some way or another.

It is my birthday. I'm going to celebrate it and not celebrate it as much as I want to. And I'm going to kick 2015's ass.


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