Measuring Up 06/21/2011
 
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Voice actor too? Nah, my job just got real desperate.
I am now less than a month away from 30. THIRTY. 3-oh! And as I hit this milestone in life, I can't help but think about all that's under my belt now that I'll be a woman in her thirties.

By 30 I wanted to be: confident, less concerned about how others perceived me, aware of my strengths and weakness, and surrounded by genuinely good people. I believe that I already possess these, at 29 and 11/12. I am pleased to be working at a job I really like, making my mark as a writer and film maker, and dating the coolest guy ever. I am not where I thought I'd be, when I was say 18, but I definitely feel like I'm actually doing what I want. Sure, I don't have the house in Fiji yet, but I don't necessarily think that'd make me happy by itself. 

As I head into the age I've always wanted to be, I feel aware of who I am, what I want, and what I am not. It's so much less stressful than being a frantic self-conscious 21-year old.

But the 20s were fun, and I'll miss filling out the forms and claiming to be 25-29, or "in my 20s" as I once had before (does anyone remember my Myspace name "Twentysomething"?). I'm ready to enter a new era of my life, though I don't expect I will change very much. I'll still be the same goofy-grinned, enthusiastic writer you've known for years. I can't wait to see what the next decade brings!
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In exactly one month from today, I will be thirty. The Big Three-Oh(mg)!

And in honor of my birthday month I thought I'd take you back into year of 1981, just before ma brought me into the world. Sit back and listen.

When my mom was pregnant with me, she was 22. She was a new bride and I was her first child. She and my dad met through their siblings Bill and Henrietta. Mom was a cheerleader, Dad was a football play - for different schools. They dated others before each other, but when they got together, they almost immediately settled down.

One fateful day, my pregnant mom went to do her laundry downstairs from their apartment. Dad was at work or something, and she was folding clothes, six months pregnant and a little uncomfortable. A woman - with a long blonde ponytail - about my own Mom's age walked in with her laundry basket. She had a backpack and attended some nearby college. Two opposing lawns of green grass that neither would know of at the time. They never spoke. But as the girl left, while Mom still folded her laundry, she noticed the back of the softball jersey she wore and thought, "oh how cute is that name."

In the laundry room, that Spring afternoon, my Mom got inspired by the name off the back of a softball jersey from a woman she or I will never know. Life is weird like that, isn't it?
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