One Step Towards Spinsterhood

So I turned 30 a few days ago and save for one Sybil like moment on my couch last night where I kept saying "I'm 30..." over and over and over again, I'm doing okay. I said a few weeks ago that I wanted to live my 30s like I should have lived my 20s and in many ways that's true, but looking back on it I realized that perhaps that's not the way to go. When I think about living my 30s like I should've lived my 20s I realize that there's a lot I'm not taking into consideration. Making out with questionable boys after downing too many cherry lifesavers in a dark, pit known as the Stoned Monkey, playing pool with my dormmates at another bar while meeting a man we only referred to as Hushpuppy. Hooker shoes. Trampy clothing and a lot of black eyeliner. The Counting Crows. No, when I say that I want to live my 30s like I should've lived my 20s, I mean that I want to take chances and not spend too much time worrying about the outcome. I want to travel. I want to live my dreams and not take the safe way home. I don't know if I'll do it and I'm not sure that I really care. What I do know is that, when I was I was 19 getting ready to turn 20, I was living at home with my parents and scared as hell. I'm a lot more self aware, much more confident and, um, entering my sexual peak. I spent tonight surrounded by friends, many of whom I've only met in recent years. I look at my friends in larger cities and I see how difficult it is to connect with people on even the most basic level and I know that I'm blessed. If my birthday celebration is any indication, I think my 30s are going to be okay.