One day in the future, I might want to remember what it feels like to be turning thirty-three. If the Internet still exists and my blog hasn’t been wiped out by then - by me or a virus - this little post will remind me!
Let’s start with the negatives of turning thirty three. Well, unless you’ve heard otherwise, I am not yet rich and famous - and at this time of life, the amount of time remaining to reverse this state of affairs starts to wane. Oh sure, there’s still time. But it’s safe to say that, practically speaking, I’m a little too late for starting a rock band. Or becoming a hockey star. Some windows have already closed.
Also, I have more aches and pains. I’ll concede that I’m still more or less in the prime of my health, but I’ve already had two root canals and countless fillings; plus if I’m not careful, sometimes my back will seize up and incapacitate me. I’ve had to observe a careful stretching regimen that a fancy Edmonton physiotherapist laid down for me about 18 months ago. Not to mention that colds afflict me about six times more often than they did when I was in my early twenties. Sometimes I blame this on having become a vegetarian. I dream of gorging myself on steak and sausages and bursting with manly, wholesome health once more. But I think of cruelty to animals… I also think of factory farming: all the hormones injected into animals, as well as countless antibiotics to ward off the diseases that would normally kill livestock kept in such close quarters. And listeriosis… Eventually I conclude that eating meat may not be so healthy after all.
More worrisomely, turning thirty three makes me wonder if certain character traits might be here to stay. Such as cynicism, bitterness, resentment, self doubt, and anger. Those aforementioned qualities might intensify - it would just take a few more crushing disappointments and misfortunes. Or perhaps they’ll dissipate. But it does seem clear that no matter what my fortunes are, I’ll have to wrestle with keeping all those traits at bay for the rest of my life.
There are, of course, some very good things about turning thirty three. Let’s see now… I am a safer and more skilful motorist. With confidence and ease, I can perform parallel parking without breaking sweat. I do not even lose my nerve if someone is waiting impatiently behind me.
What else? Having accumulated a few more life experiences than my ten or twenty-year juniors, I have an easier time gauging certain life situations. Say, for example, I see a job posting online that seems too good to be true. I know now, with the wisdom of previous disappointments, that it certainly is too good to be true. Or let’s say I meet someone who is an asshole to me. I can more easily make a character indictment and plan how to reduce the asshole’s potential threat to me, rather than wonder - as I might have done in my greener days - whether it’s me who is at fault.
Because I am rarely at fault! I’m thirty-three, goddam it. I know some shit!
I also have the solace of knowing that most of the crap that life throws my way, I’ll get through it. I won’t buckle or break. I might get a wobbly lip for a moment or two, I might lose my cool for a few minutes, I might take an hour to get to sleep instead of five minutes, but I know that the sun will still rise in the morning and that after an invigorating shower, I’ll be ready to eat another mouthful of dust - or honey - or whatever flavour the new day is serving up.
I suppose, then, that the saving grace of turning thirty-three is resilience. Perhaps for others it has been something different, but for me, that’s what I’m most grateful for.
…And I still haven’t sold out.
And I continue to hate the neo-conservative agenda more than ever!
And I refuse to relinquish my dreams!
And I love, and am loved!
And every day brings at least one moment of pleasure! Even if it’s just a cup of coffee! Or a chuckle at the antics of a kitten!
And I predicted months ago on this blog that Obama would be the next president of the United States of America, and it looks like I might be right!
And I maintain that Stephen Harper has all the charisma of a gutted fish!
And riding a bicycle is rejuvenating!
And nobody can tell me not to overuse exclamation marks on my own blog!
It’s my birthday, goddamit, and I’ll use as many exclamation marks as I like!
