At some point last week, I heard OutKast's ♫ Hey Ya ♫ on Pandora or Spotify or something. Like a hot tub time machine, I was transported back to dancing ridiculously to that song in my dorm room. Shaking it like a Polaroid picture. 10 years ago. I've never really been sentimental about anything. Or emotional, really. So, I was struck at how much I missed those college days. They were the best days of my life.
I came on here to tell y'all that. Then I was struck by an entirely different sentimentality.
It's been a whole year since I last blogged. Over a whole year. That feels crazy to me.
And now that I've returned to see how things are going (almost 55,000 page views), there's one obnoxious page sticking its tongue out at me. My 30 by 30.
Over this past weekend, I turned 30. It was a wonderful weekend planned by explannie. I've been having big issues with turning 30. It just feels like the best is behind me. Hell, I shouldn't even have that '20 something bloggers' button over there on the right side of the page any more->
I'm not going to get skinnier. I'm not going to get my PhD. I'm not going to start singing or playing piano. My 30 by 30 only makes that more devastating. I made that list when I was 26. I only did 8 of the 30.
Before clicking on the list, I started formulating my 40 by 40. I was sad to see that so many of them were left unaccomplished on my 30 by 30.
Regardless, I am the person I am today because of my 20s. It will be a decade with my greatest moments, and my lowest moments. Blogging effectively got me through a nervous breakdown (remember those days at the beginning?). I partied at Mary J. Blige's house, then went home and slept on the floor in my roach-infested room. I was in the middle of Michael Jackson's death, and I played my trumpet as late President Ford was unloaded from Air Force One in Grand Rapids. I was a Michigander, Jersey trash, a Californian, a Kentuckian, and a Washingtonian. I was depressed. I got engaged. I went into crazy credit card debt. I got an impressive job. I broke a bone and had major surgery. I ran a 10k. I learned how to cook. I learned how to live on my own. I started heart disease meds. I got comfortable with nudity. I started dancing for money. I got out of my comfort zone, and I dragged you all with me.
I'm still not 100% sold on this whole turning 30 thing, but I guess there's no turning back. This moment right now, it's as young as I'll ever be again. So here's to finishing that 30 by 40, and then some. I make absolutely no commitments to blogging again. I loved it, but now that I'm in a different place, it just doesn't have the same appeal. I don't feel like I'm nearly as interesting, but I'm also not nearly as bipolar.
Blogging helped me find my voice. I love telling stories. Now maybe I'll finally focus on writing short stories. That'd be awesome, but ain't nobody got time for that right now.
To 30!
~RoB
I came on here to tell y'all that. Then I was struck by an entirely different sentimentality.
It's been a whole year since I last blogged. Over a whole year. That feels crazy to me.
And now that I've returned to see how things are going (almost 55,000 page views), there's one obnoxious page sticking its tongue out at me. My 30 by 30.
Over this past weekend, I turned 30. It was a wonderful weekend planned by explannie. I've been having big issues with turning 30. It just feels like the best is behind me. Hell, I shouldn't even have that '20 something bloggers' button over there on the right side of the page any more->
I'm not going to get skinnier. I'm not going to get my PhD. I'm not going to start singing or playing piano. My 30 by 30 only makes that more devastating. I made that list when I was 26. I only did 8 of the 30.
Before clicking on the list, I started formulating my 40 by 40. I was sad to see that so many of them were left unaccomplished on my 30 by 30.
Regardless, I am the person I am today because of my 20s. It will be a decade with my greatest moments, and my lowest moments. Blogging effectively got me through a nervous breakdown (remember those days at the beginning?). I partied at Mary J. Blige's house, then went home and slept on the floor in my roach-infested room. I was in the middle of Michael Jackson's death, and I played my trumpet as late President Ford was unloaded from Air Force One in Grand Rapids. I was a Michigander, Jersey trash, a Californian, a Kentuckian, and a Washingtonian. I was depressed. I got engaged. I went into crazy credit card debt. I got an impressive job. I broke a bone and had major surgery. I ran a 10k. I learned how to cook. I learned how to live on my own. I started heart disease meds. I got comfortable with nudity. I started dancing for money. I got out of my comfort zone, and I dragged you all with me.
I'm still not 100% sold on this whole turning 30 thing, but I guess there's no turning back. This moment right now, it's as young as I'll ever be again. So here's to finishing that 30 by 40, and then some. I make absolutely no commitments to blogging again. I loved it, but now that I'm in a different place, it just doesn't have the same appeal. I don't feel like I'm nearly as interesting, but I'm also not nearly as bipolar.
Blogging helped me find my voice. I love telling stories. Now maybe I'll finally focus on writing short stories. That'd be awesome, but ain't nobody got time for that right now.
To 30!
~RoB
