Well, maybe not all of you (I know I have some anti-fans here), but most of you. Yes, L'Ailee reads my blog. Damn, she needs her own, but as she said, "I have you to write for us both. You are the spokeswoman of this couple." The birthday wishes were so sweet. I smiled and it wasn't even my birthday; I just made a big deal out of it because she was, and damn, she's just so fun to tease sometimes! (But the Clairol thing wasn't the worst she got. Her co-workers were giving her calcium pills, literature on Botox and osteoporosis ads, black cohosh...and yes, there were nicer gifts she'll actually use *now* after the jokes! Since she's, like, the demographic for osteoporosis, she takes her calcium religiously, and she gracefully thanked the person who gave her the calcium for "saving her money", too.)
I guess 30 is a good time to take stock and figure out what to do in light of the fact that you're not immortal; I certainly did it. And we'll both have to be doing it again and again, like everyone else. I was doubly "advantaged" in that way, because I was dealing with fibroids and hormones and impending surgery that 30th year; I'm so glad she's just thinking of going back to school to teach math in light of the fact that she won't be able to teach martial arts and gymnastics forever.
I'd like to share something I wrote for Watermark last year, the month before my own thirtieth birthday:
Thirty things I learned in thirty years
It was nice to know that I *had*, in fact, learned thirty things, and even had stuff to edit out! I saw L'Ailee looking at it this morning. Some of the thirty things on that list, we learned together. Some, she taught me. And then there are other lessons that are all hers to learn, just as some were, are, and will be all mine.
It was a good day and is a good weekend so far, despite the paranoia on NYC's public transit. We heard they might be searching bags on buses soon. I'm actually sort of okay with that, as long as it's a temporary measure. And I can't believe I wrote that.