Decade, the Third

Today is July 1st. My birthday month has come to an end. Yes, happy birthday to me.

I am now an entire THREE. DECADES. OLD. Yep, it was the big 3-0 for me. What an incredibly daunting yet mind-blowing sensation! People often ask "so, how does it feel?" Well, allow me to try to articulate all the ideas running through my head eloquently.

Our World's Expectations for a Thirty-Year-Old vs. Reality

1. HAVE A CAREER! You go to college, you find what you're good at, and then you make a man out of you by being successful in your field, so that when you go to your high school reunion thingy you can tell people "yeah, I work in finance" or "I work in education" or "I'm a doctor" and then when you are inducted to the hall of fame or given a life-time achievement award, they make a video montage where people say things like, "yes, ever since she was a little kid, she used to say she would be a neurosurgeon". Amazing! People cheer while simultaneously weeping because of your moving story of passion and drive.

Reality: at this point, I am lucky to have a job. You know what happened as I was writing my master degree dissertation? I said, "shit, I should have listened to my parents. Chemistry really was my thing". AFTER SIX BLOODY YEARS OF STUDYING LITERATURE YA'LL. I cannot emphasize this enough, kids: maybe your parents are right. I mean, maybe they are idiots, but if they are like mine, they are definitely right. Always. All the time. GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!!

2.  HAVE ECONOMIC STABILITY! By 30, everyone assumes that you have been working at least the past 5 years, so you should be able to afford expensive vacations, a nice car, pedi/manis, yoga classes, Salatta.

Reality: cheese quesadillas for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Look, STUDENT LOANS. Enough said. "But Cris, what about all those trips?" Yes, Carol, it's called Income Tax money and  "credit cards" that you will "eventually" pay off. If I sat here waiting to pay off all my debt, I would literally never do anything. Let's face it, Patrice, this blog ain't gonna pay por nada.

3.

This one is a no-brainer. The world says your twenties are the time when you get hitched. I mean, the prospects from when you're 26 to when you're 29 shrivel twice as fast as your eggs. Who wants to show up to their ten-year high school reunion looking to see if the creepy teen that used to follow you around in high school has turned into a version of Steve Carell? Nope, I didn't do that.

Reality:

"Cris, if you don't meet someone in college, it will be really hard to do it once you're out in the real world."
"Cris, you should join a young adult group where you can find a nice guy!"
"You are too picky!"
"You are too shallow!"
"You need to be more feminine!"
"Guys find you intimidating!"
"You're too much!"
"He will come when you least expect it!"
"He will come when you stop looking!"

Shush please! You are not helpful at all. Unless you are personally acquainted with Chris Evans and can somehow hypnotize him so he will marry me, you are useless to me.
Also

4. BE A MOTHER!

Once you have your career, your money, and your Jim Halpert husband, you are expected to multiply. It is part of the circle of life, young friends. "Oh, you're wrong, Cris, our modern-day gives women more options now". Ha. Ha. Ha. First, try telling that to a Mexican mother. Secondly, untrue.The reality is that in our world, everyone has to criticize the fact that you are not an omnipotent being ala Wonder Woman (the real Gal Gadot) who should have a career, money, an amazing figure, a doting husband, and perfectly behaved children that gently slipped out of your va-jay-jay because you do  underground Pilates or Aquayoga or something. The world is a lot more hypocritical now than it was when it expected women to only be wives and mothers.

Reality: "Well, I suppose you don't really have to get married... just get pregnant. I want grand-babies. Go to confession later."

5.  FOUND YOSELF!

More than anything else, you are supposed to have this unwavering, focused sense of purpose, belonging, and being. You need to have, plainly stated, your shit together. You need to know yourself, know what you want out of your life, have 5, 10, 20-year plans, and work hard to get there. Hell, you are supposed to be thinking of your retirement already. That is insane, and intense.

Reality: Look, I don't even know what I will be doing in six months... let alone five years. Every time I ask myself that I picture a huge cloud of nothing. Fog. I know myself enough to know that I have no clue of what I'm doing, and that I am taking one day at a time because that is all that my mind and soul can give at this moment.

You might be thinking, "yikes, maybe I should send her a bouquet from Edible Arrangements... she really is not great..."

Well, do send it please. I've always wanted one. But listen, I know all of this sounds rather depressing... I mean, on paper, I am one big, hot mess. It seems like I've accomplished little, have worried lots, and have messed up constantly. But, you know what? This might come as a surprised to everyone, but...

BEING THIRTY IS AMAZEBALLS.

First, I am a full-fledged dysfunctional adult! I have crazy flaws, and anxiety, and worries, and what not, yet I manage to do all the things necessary for me to survive AND a bunch more. I have a balcony full of living plants. I book trips by myself and show myself around cities. I tell people what to do nicely enough that they actually listen! I pay a crap load of bills, always on time. I COOK AMAZING FOOD without any sort of training.

Second, I feel SO YOUNG. I feel strangely rejuvenated, especially as people I love get pregnant and have babies. I am a cool aunt! It is so surreal to know people younger than you who are soon-to-be mothers, but I guess the anticipation of a new life forming has the power to infuse energy and life in those who eagerly await to meet this tiny creature face-to-face. I suppose love, in its purest sense, does that.

Third, I know myself pretty good. Good enough to know that, despite my lack of direction, despite my anxiety, despite the obscure matter that envelops my heart at times, I am actually pretty bloody great. Like... genuinely awesome. Or at least I feel that way because I am loved and accepted just the way I am by such a diverse array of people. So many people cannot be wrong, amIrite? Moreover, I am loved infinitely by my dearest friend and Creator.  So BOOM!

Of course life gets really hard (like, all the time) and many times I want to figuratively grab the entire world (particularly the male species) and shake it by the shoulders and say "REALLY? I AM AWESOME, WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?" And sometimes it can get very discouraging. But if turning 30 has done anything for me, it is to show me how much greatness there has been in the last three decades, rather than depress me about the things that never happened, that broke, that washed away.

PLUS, I AM CONVINCED, ABSOLUTELY CONVINCED THAT THIS IS MY DECADE YA'LL. Shit's gonna get gooooooooooooooooooood. Like, real good (that is assuming, of course, that there will be no World War III. If WWIII happens, then no, I think it will be horrible).

So, for those of you who are afraid of aging--stop being dumb.
For those of you who are skeptical of this broke spinster/plant lady/ deranged teacher-- you'll see.
For those of you still reading this nonsense faithfully--thank you for loving me.

Happy thirtieth, ya'll. Actually, happy thirtieth, Cris, my love. Bring on the taquitos.

Go, go, go Shawtie, it's yo birthday... (GIFs gallore!)

So, it was my birthday a week ago! This means you have to humor me and pay attention to me and all my rambling about my amazing life and such, mostly because I'm practically an old lady now. I got Betty White immunity now, so no matter what outrageous thing I say or do, I am excused.

I feel I should give you a list, since I haven't done it in such a long time. So let's do this.

1. I HAD CAKE EVERY SINGLE DAY OF THE WEEK. 

It was glorious. From cupcakes to brownies to just classic Victoria Sponge or Chocolate, I had it all. Don't ask me if I'm going to be able to fit in my dress for the ball (you will hear about such ball soon). All I know is that I have no regrets.... until I look at the numbers on the scale. Then I'll be like this dog the next time someone offers me a cupcake:

2. I went to see Sara Bareilles, A.K.A. the best singer forever and ever.

DON'T  JUDGE MY GRAMMAR, I AM A FOREIGNER.

It was a mind-blowing show in which Sara played her good'ole songs in a more raw, acoustic way. OH, not to mentioned she dedicated one of her songs--which she had never performed live before--to my good friend Clement who was standing next to me, so Sara Bareilles almost knows who I am. Deal with it.

3. I got to go to the British Library and see the MANUSCRIPT (meaning the original, hand-written version) of JANE EYRE. AND PERSUASION. AND MY FAVORITE POEM, ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING'S SONNET 43 ("How do I know thee? Let me count the ways").

The relevance of this will only be evident to the English Literature geek. THEY HAD JANE AUSTEN'S LITTLE WRITING DESK. AND HER TINY GLASSES WERE ON TOP OF IT.

4. SO MANY PRESENTS

It started the moment the clock hit midnight. The new Brazuca (look it up), a Jane Austen journal, books, Les Mis soundtrack, stuffed animals, a fancy feather pen (you know, like the stuff from the olden days , with the bottle of ink and all), perfumes! It was like being 10 again and having a bunch of presents, except that, unlike that time when people would give you clothes instead of cool toys, you actually like your presents now. But you know, all this was irrelevant because

5. SO MANY FRIENDS!

To be honest, I was not expecting a lot of people to come to the party, partly because the weather had been horrendous and promised rain, and partly because I was just feeling quite gloomy about celebrating my first birthday away from home. So when more than 20 people showed up to Bracks, I was 1) very moved and 2) terrified that we didn't have enough food for all of them.

6. All my friends wrote me beautiful birthday messages! I was sinking in love (and paper). Nothing like written love, really.  It was as cute as this:

Special mention to my boys, Bhanu and Raja, who wrote me cute little poetic phrases, and to Irene's football-playing nun cartoon, Clare's Nemo and Cathedral, Paula's turkey, Toni's beautiful calligraphy, Mike and Liz's Spanish efforts, Marta's drawings, Anna's clarification about her own identity (as if I could fail to recognize the Anna hand-writing), and of course Elena's masterpiece, the most beautifully hand-crafted birthday card in history.

You guys are adorable. It's pretty impossible not to love you all.


7. MY FRIENDS FROM HOME ARE AWESOME.
They made me a Mean-Girls-inspired video, replacing Regina George with my name.

Although I am capable (and constantly threatening) to punch people in the face (and I'm sure it would be awesome), I wouldn't do that (anymore). But it's good to know that people know I have that in me. Anyway, it's basically the same awesome things said about Regina George, but said about me instead. This thing could win the Oscars.

8. BURGERS

We  had classic burgers straight from the grill because God is good and He allowed us a fairly dry day. Even though I spent most of my birthday working, I thoroughly enjoy cooking and feeding my friends and seeing their face of satisfaction when they eat a good old Texican burger.

9. After-party with Karaoke

Singing to the classics (Celine Dion, BSB, that guy who sings Mambo Number Five), we closed the night in a properly crazy fashion. The highlight was having a bunch of Indians singing Ricky Martin's "Maria" (the most idiotic Ricky Martin song in history).

10. A weekend of adventure.

Friday, I walked over 10 miles. We went on a little walk from a town called Chester-le-Street to Durham and Saturday we ventured into the ruggedness of Lindisfarne. Although the weather was horrendous, we manage to have a lovely time--though with a lot less exploring and a lot more staying-in-a-tent-in-the-back-of-a-cafe-singing-Disney-songs.

OH, but we did manage to have a mini football match, and thanks to the hidden talents of my dear Belgian football-monster, we managed to win 2-1. Meanwhile, I:

The perfect birthday. I was not expecting it, but it was. It was full of love and joy and singing and cake. It was beautiful and special. If you were part of it, I cannot thank you enough. You are such an important part of my life and you have a place in my heart. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.