Hello again, my fantastic, fellow-thirty-somethings.  Here at the AATS, I have tentatively assigned myself the role of “relationship expert” (goodness knows, when it comes to relationships, I’ve been there AND done that).  I may spend much of my writing dissecting and analyzing the nature of relationships and all the whatnot that goes along, but right now, I’m thinking of a different relationship.

You see, I have this…….thing……looming on the horizon in my life.  It’s…….wait for it………another THIRTY-SOMETHING birthday.  ((sigh))  As yet another birthday in my thirties approaches, I’ve been contemplating my feelings about birthdays. 

I can so clearly remember the birthdays of my childhood, where the thought of a day all about me caused feelings of sheer joy.  I would spend hours pouring over the Sears catalog (just like at Christmas–you know what I’m talking about), marking pages and circling items that I really, really wanted.  The birthday itself was full of food and sugar and friends and presents — it was kid ecstasy.  In short, those birthdays were amazing and fantastic and glorious, all at once!

Then, in my teenage years and into my early twenties, each birthday got me one step closer to where I wanted to be.  Being able to drive a car, getting a car, being an “adult,” going to college, being a twenty-something (man, that was exciting!), be able to drink legally.  The things to look forward to were endless.  Every year, I felt more and more grown up.  But at the same time, birthdays were still fun.  They were spent being young and carefree, partying with friends, while still getting tons of presents from mom and dad.  These birthdays were just as fantastic as those of my childhood, only so much more “grown up!”

Then, there were the birthdays of my late twenties.  These were the years I was still looking forward to “my day.”  The presents got a bit more sophisticated and sometimes you’d even buy yourself a present (thanks to that full time job), but the fun?  Oh, the fun was even more intensified that it ever had been.  The possibilities of what to do on a birthday were never ending.  YOU COULD DO WHATEVER YOU WANTED.  Plus, you had finally learned how to handle all that alcohol you wanted to drink and how to make the most of it, instead of regretting it by 11pm.  How awesome is that? 

Then, oh, yes, and then…..I’d like to take you to my THIRTIETH birthday.  This was the year that I had no idea it was all going to be different.  I was starting to settle down, but I felt like I wasn’t completely there yet.  My time out at the bars and the nightclubs had lessened, but little did I know it was all different now.  On a whim, I planned a big night “OUT” with some of my best friends.  It involved having expensive martinis at a posh little restaurant, followed by a night of ”upscale” (but drunken) dancing at a nearby nightclub.  The expensive martinis at the restaurant’s bar?  They were awesome, as was sitting in that booth having a fantastic time with my friends.  And then we get to the nightclub.  It was all downhill from there.  You see, apparently turning 30 meant that my body knew it limits and I had stopped the martini flow for a while.  This meant that I was no longer “feeling it” at the nightclub.  So, there we sat.  A table full of thirty-somethings (and a few almost thirty-somethings) at a hot nightclub.  Just sitting.  No dancing.  No debauchery.  Just us, totally boring.

And that, dear readers, is how I learned that birthdays in your thirties are different.  Not that all the fun is gone.  Oh no, not by a long shot.  You just have to figure out what kind of fun you really want to have at your thirty-something birthdays.  So, this year, as I celebrate one more year of being in my thirties, how do I feel about my relationship with my age?  I’m OK with it.  I’ve come to terms with my age and I know how to make the most of it.  How will I be celebrating this glorious day?  I’m honestly not sure.  But I can tell you there will be NO nightclubs involved.