Lives

So it's happened: I turned 30 and really nothing changed, and nothing spectacular came over me. I'm documenting it here so that 100 years from now when I potentially have a grown kid who is afraid to turn a milestone age, I can turn to that person and say, "Remember back when the internet was a place where people spilled their guts, and your old mom said turning (insert milestone age) was no big deal really? Yeah, she's just as right now as she was then." That is if adult wisdom ever really sticks around.*The past week has been a definite blur, in all respects of the word. Last Thursday at class we workshopped the most favorite story I've written to date (my personal favorite). The workshop went well: my instructor and all the members of the class are in relative agreement, which is that I use wayyy too many metaphors at one time (which today, on my ride home on the train I decided are like fragile little tears and each one means so much to me so how do I shake them free?? But I can always pin them to the inside of a notebook and use them later on - that's what's great about writing...you can shuffle things around) but aside from that, I think the story received decent critique. The assignment was called "dream story" which meant yanking a weird detail from a dream and buttressing it (Sharon - instructor- said that, how beautiful) with narrative. I started writing mine in my head a few weeks ago while walking home from work and reveling in the longer lasting daylight that is ours to keep for a few months. Anyway, I think I really like it. It's got extreme weak points but those can always be drafted right out. I look forward to this summer, when I will not be in class and I will spend time revising old work to polish soft spots.*Oh, so last Thursday, before class, my parents had landed in New York for their first visit ever to this grand City (see the photo above that was shot by a coworker as she descended into LaGuardia). I spent an eternity traveling to meet them at the Airtrain station out in Queens somewhere, and when I finally located them, it took us another eternity to get home. But, we found our way back (the trains were running like molasses that day) and they began their 6-day visit with us. Bear in mind, our apartment is tiny, so tiny. It was rough to manage through near an entire week with four adults in this place. But, we did it - and well, because my parents had a delightful time here in New York with Craig and me. I could recap all that we did, but that would border on boring, especially since I've done just about everything that we did multiple times before. They loved every minute, though. And that's good.*My birthday itself was relatively uneventful, really. We went to Brooklyn and to the Transit Museum. Craig gave me a greeting card in the morning and took us to dinner at Smith & Wollensky that night. We ate giant prawns and lobster and steak and drank wine, and the waitstaff sang Happy Birthday to me. Then we went to Biddy's afterwards: Lauren, Jeff and Alison joined us for drinks. Lauren and Jeff gave me awesome birthday presents - a gift cert for a fancy Manhattan kitchen store, and four CD's of Jeff's favorite music - all of which I presently listen to - primarily Neko Case, which I cannot believe I've never ever found on my own before - she's amazing. Her voice is unfathomably sweet and perfect. All the while through the week, Craig and I bunked in this tiny room where we keep the computer and miscellaneous furniture we can't stash anywhere else...it was pretty tricky. But we made it! And I'm so glad we showed my parents a good time here in New York. And so now I'm 30.*I wanted to recap things I'd done in my twenties, like an e-mail I sent recently to Andrea, but I'm not really into accomplishment at the moment: I'm more into figuring out where to go from here.***Here's to 30, the number, the age, the concept. Good things could happen at this age. Perhaps.