Thoughts on Turning Thirty
Shortly, I will turn thirty. This really isn't so bad because my twenties weren't, you know, FANTASTIC, so I figure what's coming down the pike will probably be an improvement. Still, I need to come to terms with some of the stereotypes I have about people in their thirties. These ideas are disrupting what should otherwise be a whole-hearted embrace of the approaching decade. Here's what concerns me:
Thirtysomethings do not decide what they will wear to work by grabbing something off the bedroom floor and sniffing it. And they definitely do not use this method to choose their socks.
Thirtysomething women do not remove their bras the moment they get home from work, lazily pulling them off through their shirt sleeves the way they learned in the seventh grade locker room. They do not then fling these bras on the back of the sofa, and leave them there for the next two to four days.
Thirtysomethings do not carry Hello Kitty lunchboxes to work.
Thirtysomethings like to talk about mortgages, reproductive challenges, reproductive successes, insurance, commutes, and school systems. They do not enjoy discussions about boogers, intestinal challenges, generalized malaise, and selfhood.
Thirtysomethings do not need to eat cookies every single night.
Thirtysomethings do not make bad choices like they did in their twenties last week, such as getting drunk on a work night and then eating brain tacos in the Mission well after an appropriate bedtime.
Thirtysomething women have long ago abandoned their fantasies of dying their hair platinum blond, just once.
Thirtysomethings do not continually wonder whether they are fulfilled because they have already figured that out by the time they turned thirty, and they have bigger stuff to worry about anyway, like keeping tiny human beings alive. God.
On the other hand, I can hardly say that my activities lately have exactly embodied twentysomething behavior either. For example:
Twentysomethings do not fall asleep at 9:15 on the couch in front of PBS.
Twentysomethings do not prefer reading a book under the covers to cocktail parties.
Twentysomethings go to concerts more than once every five years, and do not wish to sit down at these concerts.
Twentysomethings do not buy food in "100-Calorie Packs" because they do not need to worry about their increasing rotundity.
Twentysomethings do not find out about new music from NPR.
Twentysomethings do not ask for old-lady shopping trolleys for their birthday.
Twentysomethings do not worry about turning thirty.
Thirtysomethings do not decide what they will wear to work by grabbing something off the bedroom floor and sniffing it. And they definitely do not use this method to choose their socks.
Thirtysomething women do not remove their bras the moment they get home from work, lazily pulling them off through their shirt sleeves the way they learned in the seventh grade locker room. They do not then fling these bras on the back of the sofa, and leave them there for the next two to four days.
Thirtysomethings do not carry Hello Kitty lunchboxes to work.
Thirtysomethings like to talk about mortgages, reproductive challenges, reproductive successes, insurance, commutes, and school systems. They do not enjoy discussions about boogers, intestinal challenges, generalized malaise, and selfhood.
Thirtysomethings do not need to eat cookies every single night.
Thirtysomethings do not make bad choices like they did in their twenties last week, such as getting drunk on a work night and then eating brain tacos in the Mission well after an appropriate bedtime.
Thirtysomething women have long ago abandoned their fantasies of dying their hair platinum blond, just once.
Thirtysomethings do not continually wonder whether they are fulfilled because they have already figured that out by the time they turned thirty, and they have bigger stuff to worry about anyway, like keeping tiny human beings alive. God.
On the other hand, I can hardly say that my activities lately have exactly embodied twentysomething behavior either. For example:
Twentysomethings do not fall asleep at 9:15 on the couch in front of PBS.
Twentysomethings do not prefer reading a book under the covers to cocktail parties.
Twentysomethings go to concerts more than once every five years, and do not wish to sit down at these concerts.
Twentysomethings do not buy food in "100-Calorie Packs" because they do not need to worry about their increasing rotundity.
Twentysomethings do not find out about new music from NPR.
Twentysomethings do not ask for old-lady shopping trolleys for their birthday.
Twentysomethings do not worry about turning thirty.
posted by cindym at 12:57 PM
18 Comments:
I'm thirtysomething and I still do the bra thing that you wrote about regularly, don't consider eating brain tacos while drunk a bad thing, and probably drink more wine than any normal human being should (hey- at least it isn't jagermeister....ew)!!
Funny thing is, I still feel 22- that's probably a bad thing huh?
Happy birthday!
Minus the Hello Kitty and boogers & whatnot, I do most of those things...and I passed 30 looooooong ago!
Happy Birthday!
That thought, that twentysomethings do not learn about new music from NPR, may very well be the most astute insight I have ever had the pleasure, and pain, to read.
rachael
In a month I turn 50 - you have a long way to go... so enjoy every minute of it!
Dan
Austin
You know what all my 30-something friends say? Women in their 30s are more confident and comfortable in themselves, and don't care that they don't fit into anyone else's stupid boxes.
Here's to a great decade!
(Just turned 30 myself.)
Dearohdear -- I didn't get the memo -- I still take off my bra that way, tho I do not fling it on the sofa....
Oh, but I forgot that when I turned 30, I started counting years backwards, so I guess i'm twenty-something again.
How about this -- maybe you're just "Cindy-something" -- and that's something else.
Cindy-
Happy Birthday, Cuz.
-Tony Boynton
Happy Birthday Chum-chum!
I've been living with a woman in her thirties for a year and a half now and I have to say that maybe we're stuck in Arrested Development or maybe we're iconoclasts but I don't think that the thirties have to be THAT repressive. Bras on the couch and clothes on the floor are timeless. Sure kids might become an issue as those clocks start ticking, but having a child doesn't signify the start of conservative respectability unless YOU want it to. I would love to see you carrying your baby around in your Hello Kitty lunchbox!
Enjoy it and eat lots of sushi.
Love,
Bri-bri.
Dude, I still impress myself by taking my bra off in the living room without removing my shirt. This is particularly tough if the cuffs of your sleeves are snug, but I always manage to do it. Where the bra lands is irrelevant as long as the girls have some breathing space. Am I right?
Wow! First of all, I didn't mean to jump the gun and get all my bday wishes prematurely - it's not til the end of the month! But I guess it's been on my mind...
Hi Tokyoastrogirl - I wonder if we each pick an age in our head and stick with it...I think I'm 17. Yes, at least our taste in alcoholic beverages has improved with the years...although it's not hard to improve on, say, blackberry vodka or tequiza (which i still like, secretly...)
Hi Janet - no boogers? Come on! :)
Rachael - Well, it's sad (for us) but true.
Hi Dan - I am, believe me... And happy birthday to you too!
Tisha - that's also what I hear. I'm definitely ready for that phase to begin.
ME - I like that Cindysomething idea. Perhaps I should start flinging my bra on the giant plant instead!
Hi Tony - Good to hear from you! Thanks for the bday wishes...
Bribri - Do they make hello kitty baby carriers? Or perhaps my children and I can both shop at the Sanrio store together...
Michele - you are totally right. I didn't know many people had this skill. I guess I'm not as talented as I thought...
Ummm,
just thought I'd let you know how much I enjoyed this entry, which I read from my own home (for which I carry a mortgage of which I speak to nobody other than my mortgage broker), sitting next to my very cute dog (the only life other than my own that I am responsible for maintaining) and wondering what kind of cookies I am going to eat later tonight. Oh yeah, and my recently disrobed bra, as we speak, is hanging on the back of the armchair.
Just so you know....
Happy (early) Birthday,
Joanna, age 36
Hi Cindy! (I found you eons ago when googling Blvd Raspail market!)
You're indeed sooooo wrong about the bra removal.
Still do it, always will.
40+ something!
Lu
Happiest of b'days!
thanks joanna! i'm feeling more and more proud to be part of the 30-years crowd.
you too lu - who knew the bra is still constraining so many of us?? you'd think with all the technological advancements of vicky's secret, we'd be liking it by now.
So I've been 30 for a little over a month now... I never figured out how to execute that bra maneuver (I have no idea what the conceptual block is) so I'm usually flinging a whole outfit at my living room at the end of a long day and swapping it for jammies or loungewear. I think there are two outfits on the blue chair right now. :/ Anyway, happy almost birthday. :P
Happy almost birthday! I was in SF for a conference last weekend for only about 60 hours, but spent two of those meandering through the Ferry Building and reminiscing wistfully about our Food Frenzy.
Anyway, enjoy turning 30 -- it is much less depressing than turning 31! Ha! xoxL
Birthday girl -
In the wise, wise words of R&B legend Aaliyah, (back during her early teens when she was involved with R. Kelly... what trivia!), "Age ain't nuthin' but a number."
My sixty-something mother still removes her bra in aforementioned manner, but now also removes her dentures to "give her gums a rest". These are not flung to any far corner of the room, by the way.
92% of American twentysomethings AND thirtysomethings don't even have passports to live even a fraction of your non-fantastic (are you nuts?) life.
Lastly, I think that EVERYBODY secretly really enjoys a good conversation about digestion and boogers - just with the right people.
I really enjoy your blog - we discovered it during a wine class at - off all places - Ecole Ritz Escoffier! The whole class' necks snapped around when the sommelier zipped by a picture of David, and being a nosy Rosie, I had to find out more about somebody else's experience. Great pics, great stories.
Hope you had a great birthday. Now go and dye your hair platinum. If you hate it, you can always dye it back (that's the beauty about going lighter!).
Nicole
Paris (at the moment)
Hi Nicole - Wow! That's so funny. Were you guys using a computer during class? If so then the Ritz has changed quite a bit since I was there. :) Ahh, enjoy your time there - maybe YOU should start a blog. It'd be fun to read about other people's experiences there. And thanks for the birthday thoughts. It's nice to know denture removal is somewhere in my future...
Wow! You're really putting thirty-something in a box! I'm 50-something and I still take my bra off (yes, through my shirt-sleeves) and fling it across the room when I get home. Granted, it's the bathroom and not the living room, but there you go. In fact, I taught my daughter that trick. The thirties were some of my most life-changing years (for the better!) and I can only wish the same for you! Happy Birthday.
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