On Being 30

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This isn’t for you. It’s for me.

This is me, prior to turning 30.

Now I am 30.

I am female.

I like my hair, which is almost black with some gray and a single pink streak.

I live in Austin, Texas.

I like to think one day I will move away and work for America’s Test Kitchen/Cook’s Country.

I do not believe this is actually true.

I am not thin. The opposite of thin. What’s the word? Fat? Yes: I am fat. That’s not self-deprecating, merely true.

I am self-deprecating.

I never thought I’d have 2 degrees at 26.

I never thought I’d be a home owner at 27.

I have two (2) cats, which I blame on other people.

When my boyfriend exits a room and the cats look longingly after him, I like to tell them “Daddy’s gone for cigarettes and he’s never coming back.”

I do not smoke.

I have two (2) degrees, a BA in history and an MA in Secondary Ed.

I am an Executive Admin. I tell people I administer Executives.

I feel I have no direction.

I have been to Canada and Mexico.

I want to fit in.

I do not have cable, but I watch an incredible amount of television.

I have a very good sense of humor; it is very easy to not take things seriously.

Many times my joking makes people uncomfortable, which deeply amuses me.

I may make people laugh, but no one makes me laugh harder than my loves.

I enjoy cooking and writing.

I have been told that as a child I cried a lot. I do not cry as an adult.

I have had no less than twelve (12) bad hair cuts.

I have had no more than seven (7) good haircuts.

I am rough-and-tumble, and wonder what it’s like to be delicate, in a slightly envious way.

I own no less than eight (8) black t-shirts.

I get off topic quite regularly. Generally because I don’t care about the current topic.

I am horrified by the change in women’s rights that has occurred in 2012 alone.

I have zero children. I have been pregnant once.

I swear like a sailor. I don’t mean to.

I claim to hate people in general. This is not entirely inaccurate.

I hate people who turn down education.

I think baby ostriches are fucking adorable.I think adult ones are crazy as shit and would probably die due to provocation if ever I encountered one. Like ex-dinosaurs, those things.

I like Star Wars. Entirely too much.

I like Star Trek. Entirely to0 much.

I like to play games. I periodically cheated at Monopoly as I child, though I now care only for playing and not ever winning.

I like jazz more than I’ve ever let on.

I am stupidly opinionated. I even dislike me half the time.

I can poach an egg like a fucking champ.

I want constantly. It’s horrible and by far one of the traits I dislike most about myself.

I have never known my father without a mustache. I tell people that baby “pinky” mice live underneath it, the mustache being their protective shelter.

When I was a child my mother had braces, as did my brother.

I have never had braces.

I worry constantly. At night the worries become anxiety.

I amazed and entertained by the fact that some American’s bleach their anuses.

I find writing, especially poor writing, to be the most self-indulgent crap that’s swirling around the interwebs. (I’m looking a you, current post.)

I truly love joy. I find it exciting, and easily the best part of life and laughing.

I am immensely fortunate because, if nothing else, my boyfriend “gets” me. He truly does.

I am 30. And that’s just fine with me. For now.

This is me today. Not much has changed.

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One thought on “On Being 30

    Steve M said:
    May 3, 2012 at 5:22 pm

    Kate,

    Being the owner of 75+ pairs of Chucks, I love the pink pair you’re wearing in the picture. Not to be a wiseass but did you have a thing for the Punky Brewster look?

    I’ll do one better. This is what I looked like when I turned 16.

    http://maggipicayune.net/wp/?p=2604

    It has been downhill since that birthday party.

    Keep writing! Keep pushing! Keep trying!

    I too feel like my site is just a message in a bottle, hoping someone stumbles upon it, reads and leaves comments…to stir up a conversation, not to stroke my ego.

    Steve

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