Tuesday, March 22, 2011

When don't birthdays count?

I'm 29 today, which is nearly thirty.  30.  3-0. While I realize that thirty must be the new twenty since forty is the new thirty (and we can't have two thirties I'd assume),  I'm happier now than I was at twenty. There will probably be an age when I look back and say "I wish I were ## again", but that age isn't now.
courtesy of bostonherald.com.  The classic from when I was a kid.
While there are some things I would trade {namely my swimmers physique at seventeen for my lazy nearing middle aged sponginess now}, I wouldn't go back to being a teenager for anything. I escaped.  I don't use that word lightly, but I left high school early.  My last two years, grades 11 and 12/ages 16-18, were spent at a local community college choosing my classes and actually learning something.  I returned to high school for swim team and administrative details, that was it. I wasn't the prom queen (shocking, I know), I wasn't on student council and homecoming committee. I didn't hang around after classes to see the football/baseball/basketball game nor the wrestling/tennis match or even the track meets. High school wasn't my thing.  I don't look back and think "Man, that was a great time. I really miss being in high school".  I can't even fathom what that would feel like or who does that.
courtesy of iamanasha.com
After high school were some rocky years.  One was spent at the University of Kansas, one and a half at U of WA.  Following school were years of work, struggle and growing up.  I though we grew up from, say, age two until twenty when i was a kid.  One goes to school, learns things ranging from how to line up and share to quantum physics.  I'm more and more sure as time goes on that I became more the person I am now between the ages of maybe 18 and 28. That was when I moved away from home, moved back, then moved even farther away. I lived in foreign countries and with cheerleader-like enthusiasm and support of my mom, I became self reliant and resilient.  I got through the toughest times I've seen so far.  I climbed mountains and hiked valleys (literally and figuratively), I swam in far off oceans and spoke in foreign tongues.  I embraced the person I became, no the person I am still becoming, even though that person isn't who I used to think I would be. I did it alone, but with several pillars of support, namely my mom and sister, that allowed me to go alone.

If you'd asked me fifteen or six or even two years ago where I wanted to be, where I thought I might be, I can, with no doubt in my mind, tell you that I never estimated I'd be teaching Koreans in Indonesia.  That I would be single, uncertain if I ever want kids.  My assumption at this point is that I'll be heading back to The States at some point in the not to distant future with plans to get my Masters in Education or Teaching. More on that in another blog, but I have mixed feeling about going back "home".
courtesy of davidhairstyle.blogspot.com
A last note on birthdays. Mine is on a Wednesday this year.  Wednesday is the longest work day of the week for me.  I'm up at 6 am. Other than a stop at home to change clothes and bags, I'm rarely home before 10. I teach a business class that night.  It was suggested that I move the class to a different night, maybe Tuesday or Thursday, so I could celebrate. Why?  I can't really go celebrate on a Wednesday night anyway.  The weekend following my birthday is filling up rapidly which leaves me to celebrate a week and a half after.  What will the celebration that commemorates the day of my expulsion from the womb (if you don't watch Community, you'll never get that reference) consist of?  Probably dinner and drinks, like any other weekend here in the Big Durian. At nearly thirty, when my birthday is in the middle of a busy week, at the end of the month when everyone is anxiously awaiting payday, what's the point to celebrate? Why is it that we continue to count?  Does it really matter if you are 42 or 31 or 55?  As children we use age as a classifier for grades and levels at school or sports teams.  As adults?  What bloody difference does it make, its just another Wednesday in March.
courtesy of eatsmartagesmart.com.  If I'm not counting years, I'm definitely not counting calories!


  1. You WEREN'T Prom Queen???? I'm gobsmacked. Flabbergasted. Bowled over. Incredulous. This info has sent. Me. Rrrreeeeeeling.
    (Hope these silly words make you laugh)

  2. They did make me laugh, even before I got to the part where you said you hoped they did.