Oh 32 where are You, by M

There's scant information on how to live life in your 30's and I'm too lazy to turn to television- you know there was that one show 30something and then SintC but no. I was googling GenX too and that seemed even more doubtful, though I proudly count myself in that category of disenfranchised foolish youth... like until a couple years ago. I still however hold to my fav flannel wearing, docmartin(still have mine), grunge ways as a special and nostalgic time of especial angst and melancholy. That transition time from DepecheMode and OingoBoingo/Morrissey to PearlJam /Nirvana/Soundgarden and onto REM, Radiohead and possibly ending with Moby much later. I can't decide. Giving way from Blacks/NavyBlues and baggy clothing to formfitting and colorful. Anyway,

I was surprised how different being in your 30's really felt. Though I still don't know where I'm going, or what I'm going to do about it, I'm much more sure about it. There's this Confucius quote- one of the only things I took away from Thoreau's Walden (which I read at 17) was, to know what you know, and to not know what you do not know- that's true knowledge. And there's a certain humility, i guess, at knowing for sure your strengths and weaknesses, purposely testing them or not, and deciding how to proceed from there. And being honest about it. Especially with the idea that even if your conception of yourself hasn't aligned with reality that there's no reason to put your life on hold and wait for it. I just get on with things better.

There's little differences too as my habits and social ideas concertize... I certainly am not as socially needy- still needy, yes, but the breadth of what I'm will to experiment with has diminished into disinterest. My boredom is much more narrowly defined and the solutions aren't so much relegated to a big party, an all-nighter, petty theft, rampant candle-incense burning sessions or repeating the same refrain of music all night while writing poetry. But that's just me. I still repeat songs over and over while I write, but the tone is completely different.

I like to repeat the phrase, Ah, fuck it. Alot. Sometimes you deduce things to worse case scenarios- thinking, what's the worst that can happen, and when faced with that I feel a lot better. Like, oh, I can grapple with that, conquer that- also start dealing with your mortality NOW. Aging, NOW. It will hit you like a ton of bricks if you don't start the mental churning now. Not in a oh, woe's me to wilting of my salad days, but just a realistic look at the fact that we all have to die and we're going to get wrinkly and beautifully interesting while we do it- and all that with stereotypical pains. But that doesn't mean you go gently into that goodnight! Age isn't a GAME OVER warning light. But a proceed with caution and a good amount of pep. Because you rock and your worth it. I think the biggest chinks that could bring me to a crestfallen 32 would be if I ignore my vanity and pride... as in what am I vain and proud about- in little ways- my hair, my teeth, my strength, my words, my wit... and imagine those being given the blows of the body and mind aging. And one must be okay with that but not complacent. That redchip is blinking after all.

Ah, I digress! 32 is going to be a good year.

Positives: I'm alive, going to central america, a good home, a mom, and animals and a lovely yard, I'm learning french and am going to accomplish various things on my 'to-do' list, and my awesome car lolly, amazing and strange friends...

Negatives: Debt (possible terminal condition)

Neutrals: Singleness (not quite as negative as i sometimes think it might be), weight (whether which way I'll be be me while doing it.), my job (oh it comes and it goes and one day maybe it will come aground to a magical island called content) and as long as i don't freak myself out in the inbetween times again. That was awful.

Visuals: Up from the dark, amazonian river to the rocky outcrop- blonde wheat colored side of a mountain. The wind is blowing and the sky is blue and clear.

Hmm, anyway, a little more rambley than warm and fuzzy but ah well, themsthebreakskid.