On Turning 30 and Other Frights and Delights

It's 11:11pm and in less than an hour, I'll be 30. I don't know - it feels weird. Maybe it's just the martinis I had tonight, but I think it's also just a weird feeling to leave behind my 20's. It was a long-ass decade. Holy man. Thinking back to when I turned 20 and thinking through college, graduation, four years in NYC, another four in San Diego, a few minute relationships and then a really long one, changing majors, career moves, cross-country moves. It's just a lot happened and I don't know if I should mourn or celebrate or both. I guess both.

They say 29 is your best year. I mean NY Mag wrote about it - plus Buzzfeed etc. It wasn't the best year for me to be honest - it was whatever but it feels sad to leave it behind and enter into THIRTY. Eww. Omg. No. What does this mean? I must make lists.

A few quick things I learned in my 20s:
1. Real friends know how to be friends when it's not convenient.
2. It's okay to change your mind about your goals - it's okay to want to travel or be a mom instead of a CMO.
3. Drinking water and not drinking vodka are both seriously necessary if you don't want wrinkles. So is sunscreen.
4. Go to the doctor. But then go get acupuncture and do yoga because drugs are probably not the answer. If you feel like you need medication to get through a work day, it's not the right work day for you.
5. Appreciate the moment because time starts speeding up after 25 and you might not get more time with your loved ones. I know it's heavy but it's important. Don't screw this one up. Prioritize.

Things I'm annoyed about: 
1. I'll never be on a 30 under 30 list. Like this SERIOUSLY bothers me. UGH.
2. I have to have kids soon - like yesterday. And I'm not ready. And I don't know if I ever will be.
3. I thought I'd be married in my 20's - and I really don't know how long this jig of eating cupcakes and doing yoga is going to last for me. I'm not looking forward to cardio and working out so I fit in a stupid dress.
4. My parents were younger than me when they had me. Terrifying.
5. It's no longer cute to be confused, hungover, whimsical, and erratic. I've now transitioned from young and restless to just plain crazy. It's like get it together or check yourself in now.

Things to look forward to in my 30's: 
1. No longer getting accused of being young and stupid, especially at work. Being 30 means you're mature and know stuff. Still a "Millennial" but now mature. This is good.
2. Probably having kids in this decade.WhoawhoaWhoa.
3. Actually having income to travel the world and not sacrificing groceries and paying bills. Kinda cool.
4. It's acceptable to stay in and watch Netflix, host wine and cheese parties, geek out on books with friends, and give advice. It's fun to give advice - and I enjoy telling kids who are about to graduate to seriously forget career and go travel. But really.
5. Botox? Gray hair? Idk what else?

Here's McLovin, a 25 year-old Hawaiian organ donor.

Lay down your pitchforks. I'm not moving to Iowa. Effing place rejected me. I knew I hated them for beating Penn State, plus who wants yellow as a school color? Only the worst schools have that.. cough...Michigan.. cough, cough, cough. I go back and forth between knowing I won't get accepted anywhere since it's so competitive and similar to winning the lottery, then feeling like I'm cocky for even applying, followed by a rush of wind and a shatter which is my dreams being crushed. Some days I forget why I applied in the first place, since the thought didn't cross my mind until a year ago, then I read a book and rationalize that I could never write with such attention and dedication, while being clever and fresh. Most days I'm just anxious, clutching my phone and staring at my inbox. If one more person tells me not to worry, I'll get accepted, I'm great enough, I will stab them with a proverbial pen, I swear to G. I should get used to rejection though, since all published people could paper their kitchen with rejection letters. I was just thinking it could be my ticket out of here (here = this career, routine, petty drama). Maybe my goals are too modest, and I should've moved to Europe after graduation to escape all things mediocre and predictable, but I guess in the end, that's a cliche too.

Today I may or may not have seen Mclovin, enjoying a pink cosmo at Heartland Brewery in Union Square. He looked a little older than I think the real Christopher Mintz-Platypus (whatever) is.

Then I bought myself a birthday present, because I was highly anxious after almost crying in a restaurant due to either empathy or anger or utter frustration at life. The glass of wine encouraged me, and the birthday discount from Anthropologie didn't hurt. I would like to work there. Anyway, I have a new mug that looks like a peasant painted it and a headband that cost more than a steak dinner. But you know what? I'm only 25 on the 25th once, and I'm not going to be in Vegas as I always dreamed I would be at midnight in 26 hours. So I don't care. At all. Ugh. I should move to Hawaii. I'm already an organ donor and now I'll be 25 too. Perfect.