The Big Three Oh!

30.

Today is my 30th Birthday.

I can honestly say I'm relieved to finally be in my 30's. There are several reasons for this but mostly it is because my husband and I act like a bunch of 50 year olds 60 year olds GEEZERS and now we won't really be alone. I kid. Mostly. Not about us acting like Geezers.

Anyway, I am also relieved because I'm finally over the hump. My 29th birthday was terrible. Not because anyone in particular forgot, they always forget, because I am the only one not born in November, you'd think I'd stick out like a sore thumb but, no. Anyway, 29 hit me hard because at 29 my mother was half way through her life.

Mortality hits everyone at different times but I think it's safe to say it hits those who have lost a loved one sooner than those who haven't. Again, that is just my experience if you think about this stuff and haven't lost a parent, dude, come over here and lets hug.

When I lost my mom I was just starting my second to last quarter at Seattle U. I was 22. I had my entire life to live and yet there I was one rainy January day bawling my eyes out to the head of the Mathematics department apologizing for having to miss a few more days - but, I'd be back.

I went through the motions that Winter, not because I wanted to but because my boyfriend (now husband) would kick my ass out of bed telling me that I had to keep living and sleeping all day was NOT living. As much as I hated him for that at the time I also knew immediately that he was the ONE. Leaving my bed each morning was my healing. 6 weeks later Grandpa died. Then, we had an Earthquake. 2 weeks later I watched a woman die on the side of the road as an off duty paramedic tried to save her life while I was left holding the 1,000 candle flashlight because the police officers flashlight was not working. 6 months later, 9/11.

As you can imagine, my 2001 was devoted almost entirely to death. Well death and extreme joy because I went on to graduate with honors, get engaged and buy a house. In hindsight I have no idea how I survived it without drugs or at the very least large amounts of alcohol but here I am with no huge addictions to speak of, well, we won't count the Internet.


Anyhoo, so, even though my tragic 2001 was, like, 7 years ago, I am obviously not done talking about it although my bouts of talking about it are starting to become fewer and farther between.

And now that I am over the "hump" I feel like I can move on and get down to business. Or, to the Casino. Wait, or maybe I'll be knocking you over when the Metamucil is on sale. Either way, I feel like I should party and, that is, only if your idea of a party involves a Wii, otherwise keep to yourself. I have some rockin' I need to do - I'm with the Band. No. I AM the Band!

Karma, Thank You!

Things *I think* are finally wrapping up at my current gig.

I've been over this job since before it started. The pay is fantastic, the hours are horrendous, the task is simplistic, the people are offensive and I cannot wait to finally wash my hands of this mess.

A few weeks back, you know when I thought I was actually leaving this gig before September really got started, I complained to my oldest brother about my job. He simply reminded me that having any job was a real blessing. As much as I want to deny it, he was, no, he is right.

But let me be honest, complaining is simply one task I excel at, especially to people who have to love me.

The very next day shit came crashing out of one of the pipes into the guest suite. I think it was Karma kicking my ass. Karma was all, I'll show you a shitty job. Karma, you win. I should never have complained. I think the sewage stench will forever be lodged into my nose hairs.

Karma, thank you.

Just...thank you.

It's a WRECK

So, we interviewed a nanny tonight.

She speaks mostly Spanish.

I immediately liked her.

Until...

"Sometimes I can clean your house, maybe?"

I let her in on a secret.

We don't clean.

She looked puzzled.

In hindsight, I'm thinking she thought I was serious.

I guess there is no denying the state of your house when the prospective nanny offers to help you clean. You know it's a wreck!