It already came true......
There were a number of things I could have done for my 30th birthday. I could have gotten so drunk that I went temporary blind and possibly slept with someone who would ruin sex for me for life. I could have stayed out all night and realized I'm not 24 anymore by the way my body reacted to the exhaustion of wanting to sleep by a decent hour. I could have spent it in one of my favorite clubs, crazy, stoned, and bleary and I could have woken up not remembering any of it. I could have even stayed home and sobbed like a little girl over not being a kid anymore. That was my back-up plan, by the way.
But, no. Instead, I chose to party like it was 1927 in NYC's Rainbow Room in Rockefeller Center, with my father, who turned 80 that same week. And I know there are some of you who are instantly swooning at the idea, thinking it was sweet to spend my birthday with my dad instead of finding new ways to destroy brain cells in a loud club or something. But don't fall for it. I just thought a good way to distract from my own old age is to focus on my dad's. I let him know that once when we were together, I slung my arm around his shoulder and told him, "Hey, you know, dad, at least there's one guy here older than I am. You make me look good." He grounded me, no dungeons and dragons until I'm 31. He knows what that will do to me.
Okay, with seriousness, it was a great way to go about spending my birthday. A good kick-off to maturity. Not that hitting 30 will provide me with any more maturity than I already have, I don't see any near end to me being inappropriate about sex jokes and being mean to the girls I like instead of showing them how much I'd like to see their panties. And show them to the geeks in the bathroom for $1. See, I can't really help myself. But now that I'm 30, it's probably going to be seen as some sort of perverted compulsion instead of being cute like it was before.
The night could not have went better. Conan O’Brien gave this great toast and Tony Bennett sang "Fly Me to the Moon" for Dad. He had the best time and that was honestly all I cared about. I had a bunch of good friends around me, family, people I've worked well with. I guess it was probably somewhat better than being up all night sniffling to photo albums like I'd originally planned. I'm joking, come on. I would have gotten drunk instead, we all know that.
Once it started to get later, people started to fill out and the party died down. So, I took a moment. I sat down at a table for a while and just watched everything going on around me. I sipped water from my glass. I thought about a lot of things. Some things that I hadn't let sink in and others that I hadn't let myself think about for a while. I was tired so I bummed myself out more than I meant to. I was watching people dancing to music, some of it before their time but some of that is better than what's being put out now. I watched one couple rock back and forth together. They weren't even dancing much, just holding onto each other. Moving together. Getting lost in the music. They still looked happy, with eyes closed.
"Hey," she said, coming up behind me. And then my attention was all on her, "There you are! I lost you for a little while, I was looking all over." Then she stopped to draw in a breath as the music swelled and played in higher tempo. She held out her hand, "Dance the last dance with me." Her hand was in mine and I left all those thoughts back at the table with my water. She was close to me, my arms wrapped around, and she looked up at me through the music enveloping, her voice almost too soft to hear over the live band, "So, tell me. What did you want most for your birthday?"
As though she didn't know the answer.
But, no. Instead, I chose to party like it was 1927 in NYC's Rainbow Room in Rockefeller Center, with my father, who turned 80 that same week. And I know there are some of you who are instantly swooning at the idea, thinking it was sweet to spend my birthday with my dad instead of finding new ways to destroy brain cells in a loud club or something. But don't fall for it. I just thought a good way to distract from my own old age is to focus on my dad's. I let him know that once when we were together, I slung my arm around his shoulder and told him, "Hey, you know, dad, at least there's one guy here older than I am. You make me look good." He grounded me, no dungeons and dragons until I'm 31. He knows what that will do to me.
Okay, with seriousness, it was a great way to go about spending my birthday. A good kick-off to maturity. Not that hitting 30 will provide me with any more maturity than I already have, I don't see any near end to me being inappropriate about sex jokes and being mean to the girls I like instead of showing them how much I'd like to see their panties. And show them to the geeks in the bathroom for $1. See, I can't really help myself. But now that I'm 30, it's probably going to be seen as some sort of perverted compulsion instead of being cute like it was before.
The night could not have went better. Conan O’Brien gave this great toast and Tony Bennett sang "Fly Me to the Moon" for Dad. He had the best time and that was honestly all I cared about. I had a bunch of good friends around me, family, people I've worked well with. I guess it was probably somewhat better than being up all night sniffling to photo albums like I'd originally planned. I'm joking, come on. I would have gotten drunk instead, we all know that.
Once it started to get later, people started to fill out and the party died down. So, I took a moment. I sat down at a table for a while and just watched everything going on around me. I sipped water from my glass. I thought about a lot of things. Some things that I hadn't let sink in and others that I hadn't let myself think about for a while. I was tired so I bummed myself out more than I meant to. I was watching people dancing to music, some of it before their time but some of that is better than what's being put out now. I watched one couple rock back and forth together. They weren't even dancing much, just holding onto each other. Moving together. Getting lost in the music. They still looked happy, with eyes closed.
"Hey," she said, coming up behind me. And then my attention was all on her, "There you are! I lost you for a little while, I was looking all over." Then she stopped to draw in a breath as the music swelled and played in higher tempo. She held out her hand, "Dance the last dance with me." Her hand was in mine and I left all those thoughts back at the table with my water. She was close to me, my arms wrapped around, and she looked up at me through the music enveloping, her voice almost too soft to hear over the live band, "So, tell me. What did you want most for your birthday?"
As though she didn't know the answer.