I turned thirty this week, and I’ve been thinking, like I might, about Love, and Who I Am, and Leading a Happy Life. Or really, I can feel these kinds of things swirling around me, as they have been for a while, but this week I haven’t really been thinking about too much of anything, because I have been being Surprised. First by my sister Grace, who flew in from D.C. as a secret for my birthday. Then by my cousin Erin, who drove up from Portland, where she has wisely relocated from the East Coast, also as a surprise for my birthday.
We all slept together in the Pink-then-yellow-now-beige Palace, the room at my parents’ where all the miscellaneous young women sleep. It was like it was when we were teenagers, only I mostly felt a lot less hormonal and desperate, and nobody was listening to STAR 101 or any other music much less cool than themselves. (And, in case this wasn’t obvious, the whole point of this post is to say my sisters and cousins are REALLY, REALLY cool.) And then there was cake, and friends, and another surprise, which is that turning thirty is, so far, mostly a relief, like ah, I’m me and I am living my life and that’s pretty cool.