It's like Sex and the Suburbs and 30 Rock all rolled into one…
A few weeks ago, at a family gathering, my father announced that this October was the big one for me, that I would be turning the dread thirty. Except that I’m not; I’ll be twenty-nine. His reply that it was essentially the same thing – that I was officially old – honestly didn’t bother me. Jay-Z turned thirty too.
Here’s the thing – as I get older I am more self-assured of who I am. I don’t have to pretend to like something to fit in. I’ve seen a good some of the world, and I know what’s good and what isn’t, what’s classy and not. Maybe this is trite and just a bit cliche, but I don’t have to be angry. I can have fun. While I like to stay current, I don’t have to chase every trend. Especially the ones that make me look stupid. And even at my ripe old age, I still have more energy than kids a decade younger than me.
No, the fun isn’t going to stop any time soon.