30

I turned 30 on Monday. 30. I’m still not quite sure what to do with that number. One night I went to sleep and was 29. The next morning I woke up and suddenly I was in my 30s. I’ve had a great deal of resistance and hesitation to the idea of 30, but I now that it’s here, I’m hoping I can get comfortable in my new 30 year old skin. Part of that process was celebrating with my friends yesterday. And celebrate we did. There was fried chicken, and homemade macaroni, and a beautiful salad (that people said was really good, but I wouldn’t know cause I don’t eat lettuce) and home-brewed beer, good wine, and local ice cream in 4 amazing flavors (pumpkin clove, balsamic strawberry, chocolate, and birthday cake) and lots and lots of other stuff. Dinner was GOOD.

But, the part of the night that really got me was the few minutes toward the end of the night when I discovered my friends had gone in together on a group birthday gift. They got me an ipod!! Let me repeat that, they got me an ipod!! (Apparently, I mention quite often that I wish I had a new ipod. So much for the supposedly self-aware counseling student.) You see, several months ago, my ipod and a looong list of other belongings dear to me were stolen while I was in Spain. It was an awful experience, and I felt violated, helpless, out of control, and very, very alone. As I was opening the gift last night, one of my friends yelled, “F* the Spaniards!!” and then several other friends yelled, “yeahhhh, f* the Spaniards!!!” And while those comments were horribly culturally insensitive (and I hesitate typing them now), somehow last night in that moment, my friends joined me in my loss and I didn’t feel quite so alone. It was beautiful and very, very sweet.

I love that I will now have a tangible reminder of that moment.