Last week I got a text from an old friend – my best friend from grade school who I haven’t spoken two in eight years. She said she was feeling nostalgic and wanted to meet up for drinks. It was a little strange to hear from her after so long but I once I remembered that her thirty-first birthday is in less than two months, I wasn’t really surprised that she was indulging in a little life-evaluation. I agreed to meet and thought if nothing else came of it I would still have a great blog post.
I had no trouble recognizing her or getting the conversation started. I hate when people bother to use the cliché, “it’s like no time had passed,” but it fit here. Of course we have different lives now but there was nothing too surprising. She became a successful hairdresser and has a funky apartment downtown. Yours truly, the teacher and writer, didn’t surprise her any since, as she mentioned, I wrote some of her high school essays for her.
What all of this ended up telling me was not only more about being thirty (which it did in abundance), but also the fact that when you open a door, there can be a rush of ideas and material waiting to rush in. As I said, I haven’t spoken to this woman in almost a decade but now, as I write my book and blog on the topic of being thirty, an important part of my past shows up wanting to talk about “what it all means”. At one point, without even knowing that I was writing about turning thirty she said, “There really is something about turning thirty, isn’t there?”