This whole milestone birthday has been rather creeping me out. Because thirty is undeniably adult. I struggle with the adult-ness. Blame my student-lifestyle, my being mistaken for a minor, and my biological clock all working their mindfuck mojo on me.
Instead of trying to ignore it or escape it, I decided to embrace it. I lay down my books, pulled on my Keens and the big sweater the Cheese Fiend made me, jumped on my periwinkle bike and went to the beach. I listened to the crashing of the waves, standing on an empty (slightly smelly), moonlit beach as I transitioned from 29 to 30. The beach just seemed appropriate. It represents something exciting and special from my childhood and it now represents my new life. The beach is something consistently pleasant and escape-y in my life. The week at Bethany Beach with the whole extended family sharing a condo was always the best week of the year. And I remember driving to Virginia Beach on a whim after our ER parties in college. Or standing on the beach in Massachusetts on the first day of spring as it snowed (I'm a sucker for irony). Or some of the best dates I've ever been on, playing in the water and basking on the sand. Add the cliche of waves/passing of time and its inherent different-ness, and it was an obvious choice.
Of course, because it was me, I was nearly late. Which meant that my heart was pounding from pedalling faster to make it to the beach by 4AM PST/7AM EST. And the waves kinda made me have to pee. And I didn't lock my bike at the stairs, which made me a bit paranoid. But totally worth it.
on Pandora: "You Got Yr Cherry Bomb" - Spoon
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