Turning thirty... again.

"Thirty!?"  You say.  But how can a woman born in 1982 possibly have reached thirty so early.  Well.  I'll tell you.  Beginning last year, I decided to forgo the formalities of an accurate age and simply round to the nearest pentade.  That means that I will be turning thirty for the next four years.  At which point I plan on rounding to thirty-five for a while.  And then forty.  And so on.  That is, until I hit sixty.  At that point I'm switching to decades.  Until I hit 100.  And then I will switch back to precise age measurement.  Because once you are one hundred, you gain a lot of clout for an extra year or too.

Here's the thing.  Everyone else kind of generalizes age.  ("Oh, she's in her thirties.")  So why shouldn't I just beat them to the punch?

And then you don't have to stop and think, twice a year, when someone actually asks how old you are, to remember how many candles were on the last cake.  After five years of turning thirty, I am dang well going to have an answer ready at hand.

Besides, it's cool to be thirty.

And, as we all know, I am always cool.


Debbie said...

Someone said "A woman who tells her age will tell you anything." I don't think this is absolutely true, but there is at least a little frankness about someone who doesn't hem and haw about the age question.

The Jacksons said...

You are really funny. I sure miss you. And when I read your blog, I feel like we are not states apart!

Tim and Katie Jean said...

whoo. I don't have to be thirty alone. that's a relief.