Oh and here comes 2009?!?!

It was a dark and stormy night in April 1979, there was a full moon and a rather large group of hippies, Japanese immigrants, and cowboys collected right around midnight in the San Francisco Bay Area...nope not some weird ritualistic drug fest, just my birth. Yup, just me being born almost 30 years ago. 2009 brings a lot to me, relief that I am married and do not have to fret over my wedding as I did last year, successfully remaining at the same job for a year and still enjoying it more or less...it is work after all, a renewed spirit since I no longer have any "legal" obligations to worry about, and, oh yeah, my 30Th birthday. Lucky for me I have yet to send out my thank you cards for my wedding so I can keep myself busy doing that rather than thinking about the unearthly day, I, will actually be 30.

There are predictions of course. My loving spouse thinks I'm going to crack and runaway to Ibiza with a few girlfriends and never return. My mom thinks I'll be knocked up since of course I'm too dumb to manage my own birth control. My father says I'm just where I'm supposed to be in my life since it's my life and I will enjoy my thirties richly. (Have I ever mentioned I ADORE my father?) I think I'll try to do everything possible to not APPEAR 30. This shall include: exercise...hours upon hours of dance, no, really. I already enrolled myself into two classes at the community college, and it's only the beginning. They'll be a few trips to see Naomi, hairstylist of the gods...okay hairstylist to Menlo Park and myself & Chica. They'll be something NEW and exciting for 2009...perhaps short and choppy. The tanning salon and I shall become good friends once more, this time I promise to monitor my color and keep my actual ethnicity in mind. New shoes lots of new shoes....my poor husband. Oh yeah, new tattoos. I almost went this past Saturday. If it weren't for a strange occurrence that kept me at home...I'd have Harley Davidson written proudly across my ass today. Ahhhh...there's always next weekend. (May I mention, my spouse is named Harley Davidson.)

I just don't feel "30." NO, I don't know what 30 feels like. However, this doesn't seem like the 30 my parents had. NO, I don't want my parents 30 by any means...I just simply don't feel as old as they seemed to be at 30. For starters, my mom had a 12 year old and for all intents and purposes I do feel that occasionally I too cohabitate with a 12 year old, but neh, not the same. The largest obligation I have is to two rather furry vocal felines and my marriage. I like it this way. I am not ready to have hungry little mouths with voices that talk back. I don't want to go back to school shopping for anyone but myself. I surely do not want to make spit up a part of my daily activities...but I'm getting there aren't I?

There is a reasonable fear that turning 30 means I'm a grown up and need to go do really adult grown up things...do I? At least I get to do this one in tandem. Chica, my bf since high school, will thankfully turn 30 ten days before me. YEA! So if the mirrors don't start cracking for her I should also be safe. I think she'll handle the whole 30 thing better, so hopefully I can lean a little bit on her. She THANKFULLY handled my wedding day better (to mention it she handles almost everything better) than I. Of course, she's been a little more grown up from the get go. But alas, two heads are better than one and I'm sure we'll make it past April just fine.

So as my last attempt to be youthful and crazy I vow to throw an amazing 30 B-day bash for us both....you can make me 30, but lord knows you can't make me party like anything but 21!!!