meaning in the moving design

Well, that scary 3.0 precipice is officially at my back- I braced, I jumped, I survived. I even managed to come out of it feeling pretty emotionally unscathed... which, yeah, surprises me too, but there you have it.

It's all just kind of amusing, actually. On Thursday (my actual birthday) I kept staring at my shoe- which is so ripped up that, at a certain angle, you can actually see more sock than shoe- and thinking "... I'm 30." I actually couldn't wipe the smug look off my face all day. 30 is so the new 19.

I like to think of myself in terms of age, because I consider myself to be a bit of an ambivalent creature in this respect, in the best possible way- professionally mature and socially immature (but in the most endearing way, of course). Like, I'm young, I'm so so so young. And this is just a personality thing. Things like squid and ninjas and zombies and tarsiers and hopping vampires will always be funny to me. BUT- I also have my shit together. I'm responsible, I'm smart, I work hard, I know how to deal with people... In other words, I can play all the adult games... but still be ridiculous. Still be thirsty and curious. Still (hopefully) have the energy and blind ballsiness to run out and get slapped around by life every once in a while. I don't think I ever want to lose that. I don't ever want to be too afraid to try. Too lazy, well... that's another story.

This actually feels like forced reflection. I honestly don't feel anything about 3.0... which is kind of hilarious because I remember spouting such somber words of wisdom about turning 21. And now at 30, I'm suddenly struggling to feel neurotic about it, because it's so expected that I should feel neurotic, and because it's so me to be neurotic... But yeah, nothing. My inner dialogue is going a little something like this:

- We're 30.
- Oh no! What does that mean??
- [long silence] It doesn't mean anything.
- ...oh

Maybe it's one of those things that creeps up on you.