30th Year Project: This is 30

80 days until the project begins

American culture has a distinct perspective on age. As kids, we cannot wait to grow up, wear great clothes, have older boyfriends and be the masters of our own universe. It is a short, rose-colored ideal, to be sure. As adults, we frantically try to reclaim our youth with miracle creams, younger boyfriends and avoiding the responsibility of managing universes. We seek to recreate that (perceived) better past self...ironically the one that couldn't wait for the future.

And yet we continue to press forward, guided by an ingrained promise that the future can be better. Perhaps that is one of my favorite things about our culture, in spite of its manifestations. Our shared vision that if we work hard enough today, the past will no longer matter and the future will be brighter. It is a pink view that offers hope and a reason to try. If nothing else, it certainly generates amazing conversation.

With the approach of a particular age milestone within Americana, I've heard and read a number of things which seemed to be at once relevant and ridiculous. A few pearls in particular stood out:

The thirties are the new twenties and the forties are the new thirties. So should I be freaked out about my current age or the future one? And what was my twenties if not, well, my twenties?

The only time you really live fully is from thirty to sixty. The young are slaves to dreams; the old servants of regrets. Only the middle-aged have all their five senses in the keeping of their wits. So positive and yet so morbid at the same time.

A woman over 30 will never wake you up in the middle of the night to ask, "What are you thinking?" She doesn't care what you think. Andy Roony was a smart old guy.

I'm hitting a major milestone: 30, or as I like to call it, the Cut the Bullshit and Go Be Awesome stage. I'm thrilled about this impending development (I might finally grow boobs!) but my brain has some catching up to do (I'm gobsmacked when bartenders refuse to ask for my ID). Olivia Wilde said this in a magazine interview. I absolutely love it and can completely relate.

Thirty was so strange for me. I’ve really had to come to terms with the fact that I am now a walking and talking adult. This one hits the nail on the head.

My time has been passed viciously and agreeably; at thirty-one so few years, months, days, hours, or minutes remain that Carpe Diem ‘is not enough. I have been obliged to crop even the seconds-for who can trust to tomorrow? My personal favorite. Lord Byron managed to say so beautifully what today is simply summed up as the ever obnoxious "YOLO."

So with these gems (and a few other choice things not appropriate for this blog), I'm going to do my damnest to buck the negativity on aging and embrace this decade with excitement. And why not? With such a fabulous start last week (thanks to my wonderful friends and family), there is so much to look forward to.