Thursday, January 8, 2015

So this is 30

A few months into my 30s -- a mere toe dip into the collective pool of what 10 years ago I would have told you was "scary old" -- I'd like to say I've done some grand philosophical thinking and have come to you today rich with life lessons for all. Like one of those internet memes that crop up on Facebook like the Ebola in the news. "20 Things to Stop Doing in Your 30s," "30 Things Only 30-Somethings Will Understand," "10 Ways to Love Yourself More in Your 30s." All of which I think essentially boil down to one single life lesson for us all: Give less fucks. And stop posting those stupid internet memes on Facebook.

1. Give less fucks: For about a week in the beginning of this new period of my 30s, I somehow got it into my head that I was probably a highly functioning alcoholic. I'd like to tell you that I've since figured out when to say enough is enough (this can also be applied to cookies, burritos, and stopping strangers on the street to pet their puppies) but that would be a lie. I have, however, figured out that hangovers in your 30s fucking suck. C'est la vie.

2. Give less fucks: Did your friend hurt your feelings? Give me a break and give less fucks. Friends are really important and if you've held on to them for this long, you should put in the effort into keeping it that way. Friends are the bomb. I'd be nowhere without my friends. Be a good friend yourself and put a lid on the drama. Be someone others can trust. Know when to keep your damn mouth shut. If you haven't figured out what it means to be a good friend at this age, then you're an asshole. If you're holding on to grudges, you're an asshole. If you're selfish, you're a selfish asshole. Spazz less, love more.

3. Give less fucks: Same goes to your boyfriend/girlfriend/lover/spouse/F buddy. Compromise often. Communicate clearly. Think of them first. Love the shit out of them. Sometimes it's hard. But it's almost always worth it. Some things just aren't worth giving the fucks over. Also you should give them sweet, sweet loving as often as possible because if you are reading this you're probably my mom really bored skewed towards crazy and they might love you anyway.

4. Give less fucks: And for those people who don't fit the above criteria? Give less fucks. Don't waste your energy. You're 30 now, you don't have any energy to spare. You need it for nursing your monstrous hangovers.

5. Give less fucks: Don't worry about the past. Your 20s are tough. They're a time of transition and emotional upheaval and mistakes and years of trying to figure out what the fuck you're supposed to be doing because you're pretty sure it's not THIS but what is this anyway and who are you really and what is your greater calling and why aren't you making any money and where are you supposed to be and how come suddenly your Facebook newsfeed is filled with weddings and babies and houses and dogs? Whatever, dude. You survived that shit. Pat yourself on the back because 30s are here and now you can relax and give less fucks. I experienced more near-death experiences, bodily trauma, and heartbreak in my 20s than many people do in all the decades that follow. But you know what? I learned so much about myself and other people from all that. And I really like the me that was borne from it all. But you better believe that every day I wake up thankful that that shit is behind me. I'm sitting here in my 30s overflowing with so much goddamn love for the people that are surrounding me now because these people rock.

6. Give less fucks: I'm pretty sure I had more super sage advice to give here but I'm so chill right now and giving so few fucks I can't even remember what I was going to say.

7. Oh yeah: Do good by your body. This can mean different things for different people. For me, it usually means getting a lot of exercise. Running, yoga, spinning, anything I can throw myself into fully and work up an awesome sweat. Why? Because it feels awesome when I'm done. I'm able to love myself a little more and give less fucks about all other things. It keeps me sane. It helps me make friends in a city that has become my home. You don't need to be a health nut or exercise freak. I'm just saying you're 30, do something every day that makes you proud of yourself or helps you blow off steam. Keep your body healthy so you can keep that heart ticking for another 60 years or so. I promise you will give so many less fucks. And then you can have the cheeseburger.

8. Give less fucks: That said, your body is your body. If you haven't made peace with it yet, you better pull out the ole' peace pipe and just accept to give less fucks. And if the peace pipe gives you the munchies, have the fucking nachos. Be kind to yourself.

9. Give less fucks: You don't want to go out to the club? Me neither! Having a hard time motivating yourself to leave the house because it's currently 7 degrees with a real feel of -14? Me too! Want to go to bed at 9 p.m.? I'm way ahead of you, sistah! We can give less fucks now. If you want to spend a Saturday night at home journaling about all of your 30-year-old feelings, that's a totally cool thing to do. This time of my life has brought a lot of new self awareness because of the time I've taken for myself. And I think that helps me be a better person to everyone else around me. So go ahead and nap.

10. Give less fucks: Turns out your parents were right all along. Time to give mad props.

I'm not saying I've perfected all of the above points of giving less fucks. Some days I wake up and I'm a real asshole anyway. Sometimes I'm selfish. Sometimes I send myself on a downward emotional spiral that often ends with me panicked over dying alone and childless with no real accomplishments to my name save for the fact that it seems like people love it when I write about my #vaginaproblems on the internet. Less vagina talk. That shit was for my 20s. I've matured and moved on to butt jokes.

So yeah, I guess I have done some thinking. I do that sometimes.

This decade is going to fucking rock. Party on, Wayne!

Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Summer is Coming

Holy shit you guys THIS IS THE LAST DAY OF WINTER. And can I just say what the HELL did we just go through? At first the weather was barely worth mentioning on here, mostly because I talked about my deepening darkness-and-cold-induced depression ad-nauseum on twitter and also who the fuck cares? But after what feels like a year of sub-freezing temperatures day in and day out forever and ever during a winter that I’m not only trying to live, but to train for a marathon, is just plain hard.

Also, apparently I’m not … how shall we say it? … The best version of myself in the winter. Boyfriend has made it quite clear that there are two very distinct Bridgets alive in the world today: Summer Bridget and Winter Bridget. Summer Bridget is as happy as a lark and down for anything. She is agreeable and non-judgmental. She enjoys long walks on the beach and cooking delicious meals and always puts others first. Winter Bridget is going to chop your dick off and feed it to the neighbor’s greyhound. She is testy and tired and doesn’t give a shit what you think because you just don’t understand and omg UGH. You adapted to the darkness but Winter Bridget was born in it.

It seems like every plan that was ever made this winter was disrupted by 50 mph winds cold enough to suck your soul out of your eyeballs or enough snow dumped on the city to make you think you’re in Alaska, only colder. Valentine’s Day: cancelled. Celebratory dinners: cancelled. Life as we know it: cancelled.

Perhaps the worst part of all this winter was that I couldn’t even threaten to pick up and move south like I do every year because every stinkin’ state went through the same thing. Philly got dumped on, D.C. was buried, Atlanta didn’t understand what the hell was going on, and even Florida was freezing for a little while. Florida! What the hell is happening in the world?!

So I’ve been making an effort over the past few months to tuck Winter Bridget back in the dark little hole from whence she came and act like a real human. I joined a gym so I could take some of my running inside to help me feel less suicidal and prevent me from breaking my neck on the ice. I go to yoga to work out the kinks. I try to do adult things like occasionally go to the grocery store and make my bed.

And then the meanest thing of all happened. And I’m not at all surprised because it happens every March in New England, but that doesn’t mean it stings any less. Last week, for one day the temperatures soared into the mid-50s. Do you know what it’s like to have been living in the teens and then overnight have the temperature skyrocket to spring? Yes, I assume you do because most of you reading this are east coasters, just like me my mom. People raised their weary, wind burnt faces and actually made eye contact with strangers on the street. We smiled. We felt the sun on our cheeks for the first time in months. We swung our arms while walking. I felt like throwing my arms open and yelling at every person that passed, WE DID IT, YOU GUYS! WE MADE IT! WE ALL SURVIVED!

And then naturally it fell 40 degrees overnight and this week is once again cold, dark, and threatening snow. I’m gonna stab … someone … something … I don’t know. But that’s all behind us now, you guys. Or almost anyway. It’s still cold as hell in Boston but this is the last day of winter. THIS IS THE LAST DAY OF WINTER. Let’s get all reverse GOT up in here because summer is coming. SUMMER IS COMING.

We just need to get through the weather cock tease that is a New England spring and we shall shed our layers and life shall be good.

Side note: Training for a marathon is HARD. Training for a marathon through an entire New England winter is HARDER. Training for a marathon through an entire New England winter while trying to raise $5,000 is the HARDEST. But doing it all for the program that saved so many lives after last year's Boston Marathon bombings sure does make it worth it. Will you help me get to 100% of my goal?

Side note #2: I'm sorry I used the work cock, mom.

Side note #3: SUMMER IS COMING.


Blog Widget by LinkWithin