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26 february 2001 new review! And this one's a whole meal. A really, really good one.
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nailed I got an interesting e-mail from Jiri in CT last week. In fact, I've received several thoughtful mails concerning the divergent tone of some recent columns. Something in the water, Kim? Been eating some new sort of snack? You are understandably curious. Between my thoughts on the neighborhood elderlies, flag musings, and general contentment with staying in town for awhile...well, what's up? Until Jiri dropped me a line, I couldn't really say. And then he hit it smack on the head. You ought to write about turning 30 this year , he says. Hm. He might have something there. I guess I haven't thought too much about turning 30 in August, because it doesn't seem like that big of a deal. I still get carded pretty regularly, and enough people mistake me for a 24-year-old to keep my mind off of the offending decade rollover. I think maybe my body and my mind are riding twin roller coasters. My mind has already flown down the first hill and is "wheeee-ing" its way around the first corner. My body is on the other coaster, cranking its way up the track, oblivious. So here I am, thinking about it. I'm lucky, in that all of my best friends are a bit older than me. And without exception, they've been pretty pleased with thirtyish-ness. Their life view felt clearer, and their self-confidence skyrocketed. They've become more accepting of their own bodies. Best of all, turning thirty helped them to develop a most useful skill--the ability to let the detritus of life roll off their back. The women can walk through a checkout line, indifferent to Cosmo Girl number 733. They see the large print that promises THIN THIGHS IN TEN MINUTES, know that it's a scam, and stroll forward. They remember the days when stuff like that mattered, and are able to smile at themselves. My male friends better know what they want, from themselves and others. Love becomes less hot and bothered, and more sustained warmth. Life becomes less what they can prove and more what they can do. They become the men they always wanted to be, and the ones women want to know. All of them seem more at home in their skin. I have a girlfriend who was ecstatic that her twenties were coming to a close. She flat-out told me that "it sucked". I can't say that for myself, but I can also say that there have certainly been moments . You know, the ones where do/say now, think about it later is the modus operandi. The "friends" you made, who now just make you scratch your head and say, "huh?" The too many cocktails. The stood-up dates. The naive decisions. The crappy apartments. The worse-than-crappy jobs. The whys. And no, I don't know what I was thinking at those moments. And no, I don't beat myself up too much over them. I guess that's what getting older is for. Forgiveness becomes a little easier. Not for those other people--hopefully, you got them out of your head long ago. Maybe getting older gives you pause. You're not so quick to give yourself a swift kick over the silliness. You might even give selected schmucks in your life some credit for showing you who you DON'T want in your company. Sitting here, I just did a quick inventory. Can't think of anyone I want to see on the clearance rack. Nope. I've spent my twenties building a good foundation. |
