Tomorrow is when I turn 30…

And I blame this distractraction for the non-stellar writing panache lately. Tomorrow I shall update you on the last day of my countdown. It may be over but I won’t stop improving.

I have to say, of all the birthdays in my life, this was one for the books. The one that I didn’t plan a damn thing and didn’t bother to remind people of the date. I just mourned. The calls have come in. “What are you doing for your birthday?” I just said, “Nothing.” There will be dinner plans but there you have it. No revelry. Just a whimper.

 I’m not really sure why I’m dreading this number. It is afterall, as many of you have pointed out, just a number. But I guess as a child and through my teens, I saw 30 as that marker of your successes, how far you have come and how far you may be going…

I definitely can say I’ve come a long way. But a not-so-shy 16-year-old unrealistically put everything into a time capsule for this age: being more traveled, finishing my first novel (*insert your own laugh track here*), getting married… She must still be in here, somewhere. I think she’s hiding from embarrassment! Or just reality…

I don’t know why we impose so much on such a seemingly meaningless number. Last year I celebrated the “death” of my 20s like it was my last hurrah…At 29 I didn’t give any thought to the 30 celebration because I just didn’t see what the celebration was about.

“Ugh. 30,”  I said and am still saying. But really I should just be happy to be alive…That’s what they tell you. “Be happy to be alive.” I am. Life is good. But they just don’t tell you how to stop dreading this kind of milestone. What will 40 feel like?

On a possibly unrelated topic, the other night I dreamt of riding horses with Amy Winehouse of all people. It wasn’t pretty like galloping. It was hard riding. Very fast. And angry. The horses were huge and majestic. I’ve probably lost it…Anyway, this could have so many odd meanings. Would anyone like to take a stab at it?

Did I mention I’ve had drinks?

7 responses to this post.

  1. Happy Birthday Jenice. 30 is easy. Hell I turned 50 2 years ago and didn’t give it a second thought. I am going to put a song on my blog for you today. I will put it in the file box. Happy Birthday.


  2. J;
    “But I guess as a child and through my teens, I saw 30 as that marker of your successes, how far you have come and how far you may be going…”

    I spent my 30th alone in some sleazy filty motel and orderd myself a pizza and busted out the hustler mag.
    It is just a number.
    You’ll do well, its easy to tell.
    Happy birthday girl.


  3. I’ve worked in detox centers and rehabs a lot.
    Alcohol withdrawls give the worst nightmares.
    At night you can always here 3 or 4 clients screaming in their sleep. Bizarre to say the least.
    In your case, even sobering up in your sleep is a mild withdrawl.
    Then again. Maybe you long for the experience of being a fucking basket case and riding angrily into your destiny.
    Or deep down inside (pun intended) you want to be the
    ” Bone Ranger”


  4. “BONE RANGER”? Micky. Only you would find the sex in anything! For shame.

    Thanks Mike! Thanks to you both actually for the birthday wishes. I went to your song gallery, “Turn Back The Hands of Time?” Is that the one?


  5. Cant really send you anything in physical form so I’m just trying to crack you a smile. 30 for me was depressing, but trust me, it gets better.40 to 50 has been the best ten years of my life. My 20s were a huge fucking blast of enormous proportion. The payback was a bitch.
    Peoples effects and even productivities go on long after they bite it. Life goes on, you have a lot to look foreward to.


  6. Happy Birthday!
    Jenice, 30 is so far from being old.


  7. Thirties are the next best thing to forties. I could not wait to get to thirty and I was not disappointed. Enjoy your grown-up, but still energetic years. And HAPPY BIRTHDAY to another Aquarian.


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