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I’D LOVE TO…
A strong memory of my dad right now is when he would print out job descriptions from the internet and give them to me when I visited, even though I already had a job. There was a definite sweet about this.
Do you remember that scary movie The Number 23 with Jim Carey? It was about a guy who saw the number 23 everywhere, and thought that it had some kind of terrifying symbolism. Well, now there are 23 days until I turn 30, and I’m starting to see the symbolism of horror movies in my life over the past decade.
I don’t know if it’s because I’m just getting older, or if it’s because I’m some kind of hormonal? But I’ve really been feeling that maternal itch lately. I started feeling it when I was 28, but now that I’m 24 days away from turning 30, I’m REALLY starting to feel it.
I once had a discussion with my friend Jesse about dating in LA. We were talking about how when you first start dating someone, you start playing a game called ‘who can go the longest without texting the other person’. Or in other words, who can show that they care the least?
I have a somewhat unhealthy addiction to fried food.
My heaven would literally consist of macaroni and cheese between two toasted pieces of buttery, sourdough toast, some corn dogs, chicken fingers heavily dunked in ranch, and double doubles galore from In’n’Out, along with a hefty side of french fries and mojos from Shakey’s pizza.
Right when you’re about to turn 30, you start realizing that a lot of ‘super important’ stuff in your life was really just ridiculous piles of bullshit.
And I think maybe we were meant to come to this conclusion.
This is my favorite time of life. 29, going on 30.
I feel immense gratitude for being 29. There is something beautiful about it. Something sweet. I can see myself crying at 26, smiling at 28, coming to a rest at 29.
A soft halt.
I’m doing something crazy, and I have zero time for it. But I’m doing it anyway.
I’m turning 30 on August 26th. That’s right, the road to thirty is finally upon me. I may be the most excited person on the planet about it, because my 20s were the most colorful mess ever. For awhile I considered doing a long post about all of the things I’ve learned over the past decade. Battles. Losses. Stupid ideas. That sort of thing.