September 17, 2010

30 is the new 20 (otherwise known as crap we tell ourselves to feel better about our age)

I received an e-mail yesterday from Whole Foods, which was not unexpected as I am on their mailing list and similar e-mails arrive in my in box on a weekly basis. There was nothing strange or distinctive regarding this particular installment, save the subject line: Guess Who's Turning 30?

Now, a logical person would have probably read the subject line and then proceeded by taking one of two actions -- 1) open the e-mail if they had any interest in reading on, or 2) delete the e-mail. Yes, a reasonable person would have chosen one of the previous options. However, let's add into the mix that the person receiving the e-mail (me) is just more than a week shy of turning 30 AND is not the least bit excited nor happy to be crossing this threshold of a decade in her life.

Okay, back to yesterday and the e-mail as I'm sure the suspense is eating at you by now. Upon reading the subject line, I promptly marched over to my boss' office and exclaimed that somehow, someway, Whole Foods has discovered that I am turning 30. I believe it went a little something like this: "How! Does! Everyone! Know! I! Am! Turing! 30!?"

After calming me down (aka, telling me I'm crazy, or something to that effect), he told me that I probably, at some point, had filled out a survey or signed up for an offer that required me to submit my date of birth. After hearing this news, I made my way back to my cube, sulking along the way. Upon returning to my computer, I chose option number one and opened the e-mail and, wouldn't you know it, Whole Foods is celebrating their 30th anniversary this month. Oops.

At this point you're probably asking yourself why, even if it had been true that Whole Foods had "discovered" my age, would it be such a big deal. It really wouldn't have, except for that fact that I really, really, really do not want to turn 30. Although my 20s were definitely not met without adversity and a few major trials and tribulations, I really posses no desire to bid them adieu. I like my 20s. I want to stay here. I want to live in the decade where learning and making mistakes are built into the equation, where responsibility is something that can be postponed, or at the very least, put on layaway.

And, I love my friends, but if one more of them tells me that "30 is the new 20" or that their "30s have been the best years of their life," I will scream. Seriously. (You know who you are).

Yes, I understand the basis of my hatred toward the big 3-0 is unfounded. Am I being over dramatic and a bit ridiculous? Maybe (okay, probably). But, it makes my feelings no less real. Obviously, this is something that is going to happen -- I am going to turn 30 next week. It's inevitable. I just hope that I can come to terms with it sooner, rather than later.

In the hopes of not being written off as a whiny, unappreciative brat, I would like to say I am thankful for all that life has given me for the first 29 years and 51 weeks of my life. And, the good news is I'm frequently mistaken for a 24-27 year-old, which will downplay the turning 30 (hopefully).

I'm thinking I may need to embrace my inner Samantha Jones to make this whole process less intimidating. No, I'm not going to promptly turn to promiscuity to get me through the years, but I do think there's something to be said about a woman who doesn't let age hinder how she lives. Plus, I've always wanted to use her line: "I'm forty-fu**ing five, and I'm Fabulous." (I omitted the middle part just in case there are young eyes reading the page).

Regardless of how I do it, I am going to have to accept and deal with turning 30. It's going to happen. I'm just glad I'll be doing it in Las Vegas, which will most likely inhibit my ability to fully comprehend the change. Or, at least that's the goal. So, goodbye 20s, hello 30s. Ugh.

September 10, 2010

blogging, or lack thereof

The great thing about being a writer is that blogging is a relatively simple task. First of all, blogging involves an activity I complete nearly on a daily basis, so to say I'm used to it would be an understatement. Second, there's not a lot of pressure to produce a well-written piece -- no agents or editors to answer to -- when you're the one posting it. A blog is pretty much a free-for-all when it comes to content, grammar and style.

So, you'd think as a writer I could be a bit more consistent with my postings; maybe even keep my promise to write once a week. But, that's the ironic thing about being a full-time writer who also does a lot of writing for extracurricular activities -- by the time I get around to wanting or being able to produce a blog post, the last thing I want to do is write. When I actually get into it, I love writing. It's just daunting task of doing it that usually discourages me to the point I skip it for the week, promising I'll post extra the following week (which, if you're a regular follower, doesn't happen all that often.).

The other discouraging component of producing a blog (in my opinion) is the content creation. I want to write something people will read, even if it is just a few friends and family members. And, not only do I want them to read it, ideally, I would like them to get something out of it. Easier said than done.

I realize this pressure is self-inflicted and have even been told my some of my devoted readers that no matter what I write, they enjoy it. However, I find this hard to believe as I've posted some pretty drab material here. None the less, it's Friday afternoon, a time when my brain is on the verge of shutting off and entering weekend mode, and I'm attempting a blog post. I'm not making any promises as far as the creativity or stimulation though.

And, so it begins. Or rather, we're in the middle already, so I guess I should say it continues. Regardless, I spent last weekend and part of the prior week visiting family and friends in SoDak. It was honestly one of the best times I've spent there in a very long time. I chose last weekend because it was a time when I had nothing to return for (with the exception of my mom's birthday), so could actually visit and enjoy myself without having to worry about making it to this or that.

Turns out, my plan worked out perfectly. I was able to relax, have fun with my nieces and nephew and visit with my grandparents and parents. It was nice. Maybe I'll start skipping Christmas trips and just go back in the summer . . .

The week following vacation is typically a tough one, but it helps when it only last four days and one of them is spent high-rolling it in a suite at the Rockies game. Yes, yesterday my department had a team building day, during which we ate, drank and cheered our home team to a well-deserved victory. I may complain periodically about my job, but, in all honesty, I am pretty lucky. I truly like what I do (even when it doesn't involve a cushy suite) and who I work with and realize that isn't something that can be said by all.

This weekend will be spent catching up with friends I've neglected over the past few months, due in small part to my traveling, but also because I've turned out opportunities to see them in lieu of a bit of me time. Overall, I'm just going to spend time enjoying the last few weeks of life in my 20s. That's right -- 14.5 days and counting. *gulp*