Monday, March 24, 2014

Potholders and Pacifiers

105 Days... That's all that's left. That's the countdown that I have quickly ticking away until my 30th birthday. THIRTY? When did that even happen? I still wear different socks to the gym and blare Jessica Simpson with the windows rolled down (sometimes... ok, probably more than I should). I watch Boy Meets World episodes like grown-ups watch the news. I eat Easy-Mac for dinner. I don't have a 401K and the only thing I know about investing/portfolios/stock market is from the e*trade baby commercials. And every time something breaks that involves more than a turn off/back on tech support solution, I panic and call my Dad and brother (for the record, vacuums should NEVER produce that much smoke!!)

So how is it that everyone around me seems to be growing up? My mailbox is filling up with wedding invitations, save the dates, and birth announcements (mixed between final notices and death threats from Sallie Mae). I now spend my time ordering gifts through online registries and buying bridesmaid dresses instead of bidding for baseball cards on eBay. Remember, nothing says congrats on your upcoming nuptials like a wine rack and a pair of potholders. I'm starting to become an expert obstetrician as I look at the copious amounts of ultra-sound photos posted to my Facebook newsfeed. (Pretty soon, I'm going to start telling people if they're having a boy or girl whether they want to hear it or not).

As I sit and untie my sneakers after another successful run (eh, slow jog) from a fledgling relationship I catch my breath and wonder if I missed the train entirely, I'm at the wrong station, or my ticket to ride isn't for sale yet. When all of my friends heeded the "All Aboard!" call I seem to have avoided the conductor like the plague and just waved to everyone as the train left the station.

In writing these thoughts though, I realize that it is not jealousy that I am feeling. I have so many dreams and goals that I want to accomplish before I settle down. I want to write a book. I want to travel to Ireland and find out where my family comes from. I want to rescue all the stray animals and save the baby seals and pandas. I want to go to as many baseball games as I can and sing "New York, New York!" at the top of my lungs at the end of  every game (win or lose). I want to cure the common cold because I always got that tile when I played LIFE as a kid. I want to stand somewhere that no one has ever stood before. I want to see a baby pigeon for the first time (I don't believe they exist). I want to win a cake eating contest. I want to have a beer with George Strait, finally get a date with Jeter and take a selfie with the Pope. And I want to run a marathon. (Hahaha... no, that one is a joke. Let's not be too over-zealous here.)

The feeling that I have is pressure. It's a societal push to take a look at the next 105 days and realize all that I have NOT accomplished compared to others. But I know I have accomplished a lot in 29 years so far. Society may be telling me that I have shortcomings because I don't have that ring yet or that little kid running around with my eyes and sweet tooth. But with every invitation, every baby announcement, every bridesmaid dress, and every potholder I purchase I am aware of all that I have accomplished: I've surrounded myself with beautiful friends and a life filled with love. As they celebrate the next step in their life's journey, I celebrate that at the age of 29 I am blessed with friends and loved ones who want to include me in those special moments. And no matter how much pressure society places me to find my own love and birth my own offspring... I have already found unconditional love. That boy will come one day... Just not now.

So with a smile I will sarcastically write "just give me a groomsman!" in the "plus one" line of the RSVP card, put it in the mailbox, and walk back to my apartment where Mr. Feeney and Easy-Mac are waiting for me... And call my Dad about that weird horse-shoe with an exclamation mark light thingy that appears when I start my car.

1 comment:

William O'Hare said...

Well stated! No, vacuums should not smoke that much, tires do leak air that can be easily confirmed with a little bit of soapy liquid sprayed on as you watch for bubbles, there are in fact two different parts to Velcro, the trick is not to stand on one's balcony on a chair and hang a flag making sure that when you fall from the chair you do so on the balcony side and not the woods the trick is not to fall off the chair, and the list could go on and on. I'm glad you are not pushed by the norms of society and that you are not concerned about settling down if it means that you have to settle for less than you want. You have written a book and as we all read your blog you continue to add to it. You simply need to publish it! Check your email for a link. Ireland will be an amazing journey as we discover all the new information available to us. I wonder if I should refrain however from wearing the "Free Bobby Sands" Tee Shirt.