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I am thirty years old.

Obviously, turning 30 isn’t that big a deal.  At least, it shouldn’t be.  A day before the event, I was 29 years old.  A day later, I was 30.  It’s really a meaningless distinction, made viable only by the human tendency to sort and categorize everything we see, including ourselves.  When you really think about it, age is only useful in a legal sense, and after the major youth milestones of 16 (driving), 18 (voting/military eligibility), and 21 (drinkingWOOHOO), everything else pretty much becomes pointless.

Turning 30 means nothing at all.

And yet, it means everything in the world.

I am thirty years old.

The events surrounding my 30th birthday were… eventful.  That’s putting it mildly, rest assured, but the full gritty details are unimportant.  In summary, I partied my ass off, harder than I have in years.  I drank half a bottle of tequila, a bottle of SoCo, a bottle of Bailey’s (with my coffee), and six or seven Coronas; smoked a pack and a half of cigarettes; played pool with a bunch of random strangers; discussed philosophy, biology, history, and art in three different languages; fucked a Polish woman in the parking lot of an unknown apartment complex; and watched the sunrise on my 10,958th day of life.

It was, as I said, eventful.

But the knowledge that I am now 30 was constantly hanging over my head.  I was dreading it, until the day of, when I had something of an epiphany.

It’s common knowledge that we, as humans, have a poor conception of time.  We always think we’re going to live forever.  Even when we finally realize that we, us, me, you, are going to someday end, we can’t fathom 30 years in the future.  Not even 10.  So we always think we have more time.  Until, suddenly, as though magically, we don’t.  You always hear people talk about what they want to do with their lives, from people in their 30s, or 40s, or 50s.  Then you hear about what they’re going to do with their retirement.  Then… all they want to talk about are the things they didn’t do.

My epiphany was, that person is going to be me someday.

Not anytime soon, mind you.  But statistically speaking, I’m approaching the halfway point of my life.  I don’t say this bitterly, or with anything resembling sadness.  I accept it as mathematical truth.

But that doesn’t mean I have to take it lying down.

On my birthday, as I sat on a concrete bench in front of a friend’s condo, reeking of cigarettes and ethanol and Polish infidelity, watching my 10,958th sunrise, I decided that I want to experience another 10,958 sunrises, through the best eyes and body I am capable of producing.

To that end, I have begun something of an experiment.  I’m already fairly particular about the things I put in my mouth (*giggle*), but I confess to drinking and smoking more than I should, and my exercise regimen has diminished since I became a career scientist and educator.  I’m still lean, but I’ve become more broad than I was in most of the memories I’ve shared here, and I’m sure my body could use a break from the punishment I dish out on a regular basis.

So, for the next 60 days, I have decided to engage in “clean living”.

I have completely cut smoking, and I gave away every bit of booze in my house to friends and neighbors.  My pantry is now stocked with almost no pre-packaged foods, save for a few cans of tuna and multigrain WheatThins (for my grown-up lunchables!).  I eat five times a day, 300 to 400 calories per meal, and consume no more than 1800 calories per day, at a calories-from ratio of 20% fat, 30% carbs, and 50% protein.  And no matter how exhausted I may be at the end of my day, by God, I go to the gym, for hot ashtanga or vinyasa yoga, martial arts, and running.  Or I go in the wee hours of the morning and perform my Sun Salutations to the actual sun.

Week one of this new resolution is drawing to a close, and I must confess that I already feel better.  The lack of empty calories from beer is surprisingly rewarding, in a whole-body manner, and just a few days without cigarettes makes a big difference for my yoga.  Not to mention that doing yoga every day, instead of once or twice a week, leaves me feeling more invigorated and energized.

Finally, I’m sure some of you are wondering, what about the other things you need to change.  The elephant in the room.  The point of this blog.  I’m sad to report that Ashley has relapsed into asexuality, and my urges, which had been somewhat lessened by her increased attentions, have intensified.  I’ve been good.  Well, not good, but I’ve managed to exert greater self-control than usual.  Unfortunately, Ashley’s return to form has left me feeling empty, and the girl at my yoga class is so incredibly flexible….

Yeah, anyway.

Afraid I don’t have much more time to write at the moment.  I have an evening class to attend with the aforementioned yoga girl.  I hope this finds you all happy, healthy, and well, dear readers.  Expect more from me in the near future.




  1. 30! I may have said this before but try 40 and starting over post bankruptcy and pending divorce. (Actually I’m having the time of my life.)

    • The idea of bankruptcy scares the hell out of me, but I gotta admit, there are times where I wish I could lift the proverbial finger to the world and do whatever I want!!

  2. I remember a similar feeling when I turnes 30…

    Oh, and I totally giggled with you…actually, I think I snorted…watch what you put in your mouth! lol

  3. I need to change my thinking about this next age change.

    • How so?

        • TheOthers1
        • Posted April 13, 2012 at 10:55 pm
        • Permalink

        It’s freaking me out. I need to stop making it some huge thing in my mind.

      • Kids have their milestones. We should have ours, too. Consider it an opportunity to make a major life-changing decision: get healthier, start a business, learn a language! Improve yourself somehow! 30 isn’t frightening–it’s a challenge!!!

  4. As I approach 40, I realize I was still but a baby at 30. More changes in your mentality will occur in the next 10 years than you can imagine. I think back to thirty and just shake my head now.

    Happy 30, Bi.

    • I’m sure many things will change in the next 10 years. I just can’t begin to wrap my head around it all. 🙂

  5. Welcome to the 30s, sweet Bi :). I’m 36 and I forgot my email address just now when WP prompted me for it lol. Despite the memory loss, the 30s have been spectacular (bullshit included). It’s nice pulling your head outta your ass.

    I’ve been on a week of clean living (though I did have a couple of cigs last night and some wine). The week was great and I felt more rested even sick than I have in months. Good luck!

    xx, Hy

    Also, email? 🙂

    • It’s not like my lifestyle was particularly unclean before, but I can say that a week without cigarettes, ethanol, and heavy foods has left me feeling substantially more invigorated. I always feel amazing after yoga, but now? No comparison at all.

      And I swear, I’ll get to my e-mail as soon as possible. Probably tomorrow, after my office hours are over!

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