Countdown to 30

I'm turning 30 this week. I don't really wan't to talk about it.

Don't get me wrong - I don't think 30 is old, or that life is passing me by. (Helpful note to any young person who happens to read this: when you turn 25, you are not "getting SO old." However, you do make anyone older than you feel sort of matronly/spinsterly when you complain about how terrified you are to turn 27.) There's nothing I really can't do anymore at 30, except maybe be a high-dollar hooker. And to be honest, I don't know enough about the career path to know whether that particular door has closed or not.

I am in a funk, though. I don't know if it's my birthday, our upcoming move, the holidays, or just my old friend Depression rearing its ugly head, but I can't seem to clear the fog. I've disabled as many birthday auto-reminders as I can so that friends and acquaintances will forget to say anything. I'm just not in a mood to celebrate myself.

It's about time for me to post my list of "30 Things I'm Proud to Have Accomplished," for my 30 Before 30 list. I made a list of accomplishments, but I feel like posting it would be dishonest. It's not time for my greatest hits; I'm still in my sophomore slump.

I don't mean to be a downer. Soon enough, life will be all baby chickens and new beginnings, and I'll barely remember feeling so worried and discouraged.

I'm just not quite there yet.

I'm not a chicken; you're all turkeys

Dear Internets,

To my American readers: happy Thanksgiving! Don't eat too much turkey (or tofurkey, if that's what floats your gravy boat).

To everyone: thank you for all of the joy, thoughtful discussion, love, positivity, and humor you have brought into my life. Here's to many more years of sharing stories.

Cheers!
DistractibleJane (aka Sandra)

On my mind, pt. 2

A few days ago, some coworkers were joking about why there was a low response rate to an important email that had been sent out at work.

"It's because 29-year-olds are too focused on 'American Idol,'" one 40-ish coworker said.

"And 'Dancing With the Stars,'" another chimed in.

I was pretty sure they were wrong (Cheesy reality TV? That's all 29-year-olds obsess over?), but I kept my mouth shut.

It suddenly occurred to me that although I am 29 (for another week, at least), I really have no clue what 29-year-olds like.

I always thought it was Conan, Facebook, and complaining about student loans.

On my mind, pt. 1

Achilles (I think I'm just going to start calling him Abe from now on) and I are moving in a month or two.

We're going to live in my grandmother's house because it shouldn't sit empty; because it has a huge backyard for Bailey; because it's cheaper and closer to work.

We can't sell the condo right now, so we'll rent it out. I'm not sure that I want to be a landlord, but I think the move will be a good thing. Abe, Bailey and I aren't exactly cramped in the condo, but we'll definitely enjoy a little more room to breathe. It'll be nice to have curb-side recycling and a garden that isn't planted in pots. I'll have a compost bin, and my dad said he'll help me get started raising a few chickens.

Still, it breaks my heart a little to leave my condo. Sure, I joked that ghosts broke every appliance in my first year of home ownership, but I love the high ceilings, the natural light, the safe neighborhood, and the friendly neighbors who tell me over and over how much they adore Bailey.

My grandma's house is older, and a bit dreary. Our new neighbors have emphasized that they are not dog fans, and that they expect that Bailey will not bark. The neighborhood... is a little sketchy, sometimes.

Most likely, things will turn out fine. Most likely, we won't end up with tenants from hell who destroy the condo. We'll clean and paint my grandma's house, and it will feel just as bright and happy as our condo did. Most likely, we'll get along with our neighbors. Maybe they'll even learn to like Bailey, or at least to get along with him.

Most likely, it'll be a good step.

I'm just a little scared to pick up my foot.

Brain freeze

I've been busy with endless deadlines and emergency requests at work. I was so tired today that I thought to myself, "I can't remember if the city in Turkey is called Istanbul or Constantinople." Three minutes later, this song came on the radio. It was surreal... for so many reasons.

***

In other news, I love Gweneth Paltrow. This week's episode of Glee was the first one I've enjoyed this season.

***

After spending A LOT of time with extreme extroverts lately, I realized that two qualities I really value in others are the ability to think carefully and the ability to listen thoughtfully. I know a lot of people who regularly think things through, and several good listeners, but only two or three people who regularly do both. I really treasure their friendship. I am not always the world's greatest listener myself (the thinking takes over sometimes and I start going off on tangents), so I'm grateful that they put up with me. Introverts FTW!

Random question

Is anyone else so afraid of X-rays that you'd rather disrobe completely at the airport than go through one of the full-body scanners? When you read articles that compare the level of radiation exposure to the amount of radiation you'd be exposed to on the plane, do you decide that maybe travel doesn't sound so fun after all?

Just me? Sigh.

I realize I'm in the minority, but I'm not afraid of plane crashes or terrorists - I'm afraid of radiation poisoning and cancer. (I sort of blame one of my aunts for my phobia; when I was about five or six she told me that using microwave ovens and electric blankets would cause all my hair to fall out.)

For the record, I'm not just afraid of radiation exposure at airplanes and airports. I'm also afraid of granite countertops, cell phones, faulty medical equipment, and radioactive soil. I'm highly suspicious of the massive power grid near my condo, my car, my computer, and my household appliances.

However, even though I'm a paranoid weirdo, I'm also a realist. I will continue to talk on my cell phone and use my appliances (although I don't microwave any plastic). If it's a choice between being a part of modern society and being a hermit in the woods, I vote for facing my fears. I never liked camping that much anyway. (I'll save my discussion of my fear of tree roaches for another post.)

I still refuse to use an electric blanket, though. Old habits die hard.

5 Thoughts Friday

I've had a few topics swirling around in my head this week, competing against each other to become full-fledged blog posts.

Usually when I get more than one idea at a time, they end up engaging in a death match in my brain that no one wins (especially me). None of the topics ever get written about and I just give up and post a love letter to bananas or something. But since I can't eat bananas anymore (sigh), I figured I might as well write previews of the posts that (let's face it) will probably remain unfinished.

1. Cookies and Cream Cheesecake Cupcakes

I made these cupcakes a couple of weeks ago. They were my first attempt at any sort of cheesecake, and they were *amazing*.

I took pictures and everything, ready to tell you all about the cupcakes, and to document my plans for mini cupcakes. Then my camera battery died and I couldn't find my charger, and the hard drive on my home computer filled up and I had to get a new backup drive, and... well, let's face it. I don't really need excuses to procrastinate. When the universe actually provides me with excuses? I can't help myself.

2. "Sorry I haven't posted"

I may have changed my mind about "Sorry I haven't posted" posts after following a link to this site. Holy moly!

Then again, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't enjoy reading a whole bunch of "first posts," or "I'm pregnant" posts, or even "I won the lottery!" posts in aggregate either (well, unless the lottery winners were like these folks).

3. The political party I have decided to found

This one was inspired by watching a combination of too much South Park (I know) and political coverage (I know).

I have decided to create a new political party. I will call it the Hindsight Party.

We won't actually have a political platform or say anything specific about what we actually plan to do. Oh no. "Doing things" can get you into trouble. We'll just run a lot of political ads that showcase what the other political parties did wrong.

I figure we'll be able to make a strong run in about 10 years. I already have our slogan:

"Hindsight 2020!"

4. Internet mobs

I've been following this story, mostly because it seems to be following what I've decided to call The Typical Pattern of Internets Drama. (Some perpetual grad student somewhere should totally do a case study...)

The mob starts out relatively harmless: build up of dismay/outrage as the story spreads; various celebrities weigh in; servers temporarily crash; Facebook fan page overrun with angry comments that evolve (devolve?) into a (rather funny) meme; etc.

However, at a certain point in the life cycle of every internet mob, the REAL crazy people jump in. (You recognize them by their valid-sounding threats to do things that could probably land them in jail.) Watching their antics on Facebook and elsewhere can get a little bit frightening.

Still. I can't look away.

5. The kitteh

Someone dumped a kitten in our parking lot on election night. It was one of the first cold nights of the year, and it was scared, cold, and crying as loudly as it could.

I wanted to help the kitten, but there were several problems. First, Bailey is pretty sure that kittens are a delicacy of which we have been depriving him for his entire life. (It is part of his "they save all the *good* food for themselves" conspiracy theory.) I didn't want to tempt fate (or Bailey) too much by bringing a helpless kitten into the house.

Second, I'm super allergic to cats. The last time I stayed the night in a house with a cat, I had to spend the next day hooked up to a breathing machine in my doctor's office, listening to a lecture about otherwise healthy people who have died from asthma because they didn't get to a hospital in time. Again, I figured it was best not to tempt fate.

Lastly, it was 2:00 a.m., too late to call any of my cat rescue-y friends. (I did attempt a couple of texts. I hope karmic retribution won't be too bad.)

I filled a box with blankets and hot water bottles, put out some food and water, told my neighbor I'd deal with the kitten in the morning if she'd just please stop chasing it away with a broom for one night, and tucked the kitten in on our front porch.

(Spoiler alert: one of my friends adopted the kitten the next morning. Kitten and family are doing well.)

***THE END***

P.S. My brain feels better. Have a nice weekend!