R.I.P. Twenties (Posted 11/20/07)
I turned 30 today, and while some women get all in a tizzy about growing old, I’ve never really given a rat’s patoot. In fact, I sorta love aging because it means birthdays and birthdays mean celebrations, and I love celebrating anything and everything (Happy Vietnamese Teacher’s Day, by the way!) This year, however, was the first time I’ve ever been sad about adding a year to my age. Not because I’m getting older, per se, but because I’m saying goodbye to a very special age bracket. Laura H. reminded me on the day before my birthday that it was the last day of my 20s. Lord, I loved my 20s! We had some good times (when I wasn’t black-out drunk) and now they’re gone, dead on the same day as Mr. Whipple. So I’m a little mournful today, because I have to say goodbye to a period in my life when I was allowed to get away with being an immature retard. Now that I’m 30, I feel like I have to act more grown up. Maybe buy some stocks and wear pant suits. Or at the very least, get out of my pajamas before 4pm.
In an attempt to grow up, I made a list of some popular activities from my twenties that are heretofore off-limits for me as a 30-year-old. But I’m not promising anything.
- Doing the worm (with a dress on)
- Watching The Hills
- Eating hot dogs for breakfast
- Eating cereal for dinner
- Peeing in parking lots
- Wearing ironic T-shirts
- Dating 24-year-olds
- Calling my mom and crying
- Doing keg stands
- Laughing at unintentionally dirty words said by serious people. Like Alex Trebac saying “Beaver.” (Hee.)
- Sleeping till 10am (on a weekday)
- Shopping at Claire’s
- Drunk dialing
- Making inappropriate jokes about abortion/rape/dead babies/retards
- Speaking in text acronyms
