I’m going to be 34 in 2 days.
I don’t really understand what that means, but judging by the fact that I am wearing a big woollen jumper, with Grand Designs on in the background while I write this on a Friday night, it means I am now old.
Gone are the days that I would be going out after work on my birthday, heading out to the sights, shows, and shenanigans of the Edinburgh Fringe’s final weekend- Spiegeltent beside Edinburgh Uni, Udderbelly, Underbelly, Hive till 5am. I had some AMAZING birthdays because of the Edinburgh Festival. Met some wonderful people that I am still friends with now, and had some amazing experiences- with hilarious stories because of them. When Sam and I moved to Manchester, that was replaced by Pride Weekend, which always fell on my birthday. Equally hilarious, equally drunk.
Last year we had JUST arrived in Chicago, and I really didn’t want to celebrate the night, or turning 33, but that was down to my lack of “self care,” and feeling that I “didn’t deserve it.” I had a LOT going on internally. I found out alcohol really brought out some dark thoughts. But that’s okay, it’s been a year and I am now someone new.
One year being 33. Here are some things I learned:
People are genuinely nice and have my best interests at heart.
Those same people will buy me shots on a night out, which leads to hangovers I can’t handle anymore. But I can’t turn down a shot, they always seem like a great idea…
Some people have their own goals and agendas, and I don’t necessarily have a front row seat to their life show, but that’s okay, I can still enjoy it from the back in a somewhat slightly obstructed view.
Those same people will pop in and out of my life, and it feels like there could be a closer connection, but there doesn’t have to be. The relationships I have with them are enough.
Some people mean more to me than I ever knew, and have done more for me over this past year than I can ever thank them for.
Those same people probably don’t realise how much they’ve kept me going, or how much they have done has helped me get to this point.
Exercise is BLOODY HARD now. No more perky evening runs without needing to rest a day after. Oh no, pain is my new friend, as is my tummy fat THAT WON’T GO AWAY!
I must remember, hobbies can be hobbies, they can also be a job- just make sure you get money for hard work either way.
I can’t pull off a small Tshirt anymore. It’s probably been a while since I did, and I also found out it’s all about the shoulder size… which means I never could anyway, even when I sucked in the tummy.
It’s okay to have a night in, I just need to remember that not all of them need to be. Vary it up a little.
I can’t dance, I thought I could, but it was just alcohol based confidence and blurred memories.
WHEN DID MY FACE GET SO OLD!
WHEN DID MY HAIR GO SO THIN!
I look good with a shaved head.
I can still run 13 miles, as can my mum at 70, so that’s a good sign.
I should be more grateful.
There are loads of other things I have learned, probably a lot less pretentiously philosophical. I haven’t had dinner yet, so I am going on hunger thoughts. It’s like hangry, but imagine a teenagers diary full of emotional hyperbole and coming of age.
Goals for 34? Sure. Loads.
Run the Chicago Marathon
SERIOUSLY! GET PAID TO BAKE!
Go out more, and be more social.
Stop searching for the negative.
Call my parents more.
Be less… critical of others, there’s a difference between shade and sh*t-talk
Buy new underwear.
The final question becomes, what cake do I make myself?