Well, this is certainly an anti-climactic post following the dissertation I wrote about Haiti, but… not everything can be momentous.
In fact, turning 30 was, quite less than momentous. Here is what it was:
…quiet and lovely, a day spent with some of my favorite people.
It was getting up early, when the sun was rising, and then running an hour late, because I can never be on time for anything.
It was a 100 mile road trip spent chatting about the girliest of topics, and howling with laughter and listening to Flight of the Bumblebees and other Classical Music You Can’t Relax To (that was the name of the CD).
It was parking at the bottom of the mountain and hiking up to the top, wrestling with a cooler that was 35 pounds and carried enough food to feed 25 people, even though there were only 5 of us.
It was tall evergreen trees and 90 degree heat and sweating and feeling our muscles burning with use.
It was finding a rock by a lake and spreading out a blanket and making fresh sangria and eating until we couldn’t move.
It was swimming in a lake filled with happy people spending the day with their families.
….and eating some more.
It was wearing party hats, because what 30th birthday party would be complete without birthday hats?
It was drawing with colored chalk on rocks, and then getting yelled at by someone who didn’t appreciate our art… and feeling like chastised children, and snickering together after about how I just TURNED THIRTY and am still getting in trouble like a 6 year old.
It was a day of reflection and relaxation and bonding my best friends.
My 30th birthday was not momentous, it was quietly dignified and soothing and exactly what I needed.
Cheers to more days like that in my 30s.
I don’t know who took this picture of me, but…. thank you!
This. Picture. Is. EPIC. Best friend on the left, sister on the right. Matching expressions. I laughed so loud when I saw this.