Me: “He’s 29 years old, lives with his mother, and plays video games all day. He is staring down the barrel of 30 and has nothing to show for it.”
Gail: “Wooooow. That is a really unhealthy way to think about your 30’s.”
My 27th birthday is just a couple of weeks away. I’m big on birthdays. Every year, I exhaust Gail with birthday hoopla and insistence that we celebrate not just mine, but also hers a few weeks later. Not only is it a holiday that’s all yours, it’s also a time for reflection. Reflection is sort of like a self-imposed grading system and there’s nothing I like more than grades, y’all.
So birthdays, for me, are a time to judge my accomplishments thus far and set new goals for the next year. Most people have a list of things to accomplish by 30. I have a list of things to accomplish by 27 and a half. For now, however, I think I’m just going to start with the things that I should probably stop doing before everyone in town releases their fire lit lantern into the sky on the eve of my 30th birthday.
Gaily, I’d like to take this opportunity to remind you that, in addition to bridal and baby showers, coordination of the Synchronized 30th Birthday Disney Lantern Release, also falls to you.
Before I’m 30, I should probably (but likely won’t) stop…
… using the phrase “superraped” to describe a dangerous situation. i.e. “I am so going to get superraped.”
… ironically answering the phone with “Whaddup gangsta?”
… using Xenon’s “zetus lapetus” as a swear word.
… excitedly exclaiming “Oh em jingles!”
… typing out “bee tea double ewe” in text messages.
… watching (and reciting) Hocus Pocus more than 20 times per year.
… arguing with people about Titanic.
… marathoning CW teen dramas and declaring myself a team member. C’mon, Elena. TEAM DAMON!
… engaging people in the Superman vs. Batman debate, only to angrily shout that Superman wins “… BECAUSE HE’S SUPERMAN!”
… deciding a man is just not right for me, because he clearly hasn’t researched the above Superman vs. Batman topic enough for an educated discussion.
* I’m sorry, but he used the phrase “brain beats brawn.” Duuuuuude. No. Superman absorbed all of the knowledge of Krypton, a far more advanced civilization, which included Einstein’s Theory of Relativity. Jor El programmed it into his ship, so he knew those things by age three. I don’t care which private school Bruce Wayne went to, he’s not beating that.
… calling everyone dude for emphasis. i.e. “Duuuuuude. No.”
… referring to sketchy scenes as “a wee bit rapey.”
… blurting “That’s what she said!” to the wrong audience. “No, Gramma. It’s a joke. You see, you don’t mean it sexually, but it can be taken that way… never mind.”
… shouting “Emotions belong with the last fucking Horcrux!” when things get dramatic.
… reading fiction that almost exclusively costs 99 cents on Amazon, because it’s about an alien race that saved the people of earth for the low, low cost of our ladies.
… only getting 2 hours of sleep, because I’m almost done yarn bombing the living room, while whispering “… just one more episode.”
… hoarding original packaging and warranty information for everything. Was I really planning to return the kitchen knives I got for Christmas three years ago?
… going to the grocery store just for the free samples and leaving with a bag of cheese cubes and dried okra.
… driving 20 miles to the mall to get assorted bags of candy.
… somehow offending people in sex shops.
… addressing problems with the phrase “I tried to make it better. That wasn’t working, so I figured I might as well make it worse.”
… picking fights with Jane about Disney.
… provoking strangers in sports bars, when they cheer for free throws and field goals, by drunkenly ranting about the Trophy Generation.
… using the phrases “sucks balls” and “go suck a bag of dicks.”
… trying to talk unwitting people into watching Human Centipede, by insisting it’s “a tale of surgical exploration and sensual teamwork.”
That, folks, is how I am going to become one classy lady… in three years.