Thirty

So, people have been asking me to write something about turning 30. I don't really know what to say. I guess I made my peace with it (for the most part) several months back so it kind of doesn't really feel like something I need to write about at this point. There was a point where I had intended to spend my 30th birthday hugging a bottle of Patron tequila and getting an ankle tattoo, but after some contemplation that came off a bit desperate and sad. And I don't feel desperate and sad. I've said several times that it feels similar in some ways to turning 18. I feel a little more self-assured, a little more free, a little more like an adult, but those were feelings I'd been having for a while now. Aging--it's what happens to everyone, and really, it's not as if I went from 29 to 50 overnight or anything. I do feel lucky that I live in a time and in a city where being a single 30-year-old woman is pretty normal. I probably would have felt a lot worse if I hadn't made some changes in the last year and a half, and I don't just mean quitting waiting tables.

I have to say that the day itself was very nice, a Sunday, my favorite day of the week. I had a beautiful and delicious brunch at I Coppi with an excellent group of people who also seemed to enjoy themselves, and who were very nice and patient with the somewhat tipsy guest of honor. After brunch a few of us went to see Mamma Mia, which was cute but not great. And after that we went out on the town and had drinks. I made it home about 12 thirty that night, and certainly (OK, side note, someone just walked by my window wearing only body paint and a white thong--I don't know, just wanted to put this post in context for you all) had a full day. So thanks to everyone who shared it with me, and thanks to everyone who couldn't be here but who called, sent gifts, cards, MySpace and Facebook comments, etc. I mean, it's great that we have so many forms of communication now, there's really no excuse for not acknowledging your friends' big days. I need to be better about it myself.

I should also thank God or Mother Nature or Science or Satan or whoever the fuck decided to remind me that morning that I am still a woman. You really made my day!

And thanks to me, for being me and loving me and buying me some lovely gifts for myself. I love you, me! Hee hee.

P.S Recent celebrity sightings: Martha Plimpton; Albert Hammond, Jr. and his girlfriend Agyness Deyn.

July

July, from Les Tres Riches Heures du Duc de Berry (I took this image from Wikipedia. Hey, it's in the public domain!)

I have always been really happy to have been born in July. My birthdate itself is kind of cool--7/27, like an airplane. In numerology 7 is usually regarded as a mysterious, highly spiritual number, relating to such concepts as the seven days of Creation, the seven archangels of the Revelation, the number of magnetic power points radiating through the Earth (see Nikola Tesla's magnetic fields), and is just generally representative of God's force. Nine (27) is no slouch, either. Mathematically, all of its products come back to it, anything you add to it will also come back upon itself, and it's three of three (3 being a powerful number in its own right). In alchemy it is referred to as the Red Dragon. The compound number 27 (3 of 9) is called The Sceptre, and is highly beneficent, a number of karmic reward in which intellect, imagination, and creativity are highlighted.* That must be why I'm always so freaking happy. ;-) Anyway, I enjoy that kind of thing so it's a reason for me to love the month.

July was also always the only month in summer that we had completely off, school usually ending in early-mid June and picking up again in late August. When I think of the happiest times in my life thus far, they usually involve lazy, sunny days spent at various pools and beaches, or out on the front porches of Georgia in early evening, catching fireflies with my cousins, any sort of responsibilty the furthest thing from my mind, flora and fauna out in full force and all smells intensified! There's just something about summer that I don't think I'll ever get over. I'm almost superstitious about it, really. If I have a bad or boring summer, then I'm not ready for fall to begin, and certainly not psychically ready for the misery of winter.

There are also heavy political connotations to the month. The name itself comes from Julius Caesar. In France they have Bastille Day. The U.S. and several South American nations celebrate Independence Day. FIREworks. It's quite a magnificent month. (I won't even get started on the whole sun god, king as god, worship deal. I'll save that for a discussion on Leos!) I've always been intrigued by the idea of the heat and intensity of July finally causing angry people to just go ahead and freaking revolt.

At any rate, July is usually a happy time for me, and this year it has been especially fun, with all the Harry Potter (who has a [fictional] birthdate of July 31) mania. The seventh book being released in the seventh month of the year 2007. I feel connected to it in a lot of ways. There is even a powerful spell in the books called a PATRONus charm that a wizard uses to protect him or herself from dark forces. Let's face it, it's all about me.

I just hope that my birthday is a nice day with good beach weather. I was trying to plan a trip to Point Pleasant, but it was just too expensive. So, now it looks like either Jones Beach or Brighton Beach for the day. And the following night I get to see Sonic Youth perform the entire Daydream Nation album at McCarren Park Pool!! Talk about exciting...

Also, it's National Ice Cream Month. Need I say more?

*A lot of this info. is culled from Linda Goodman's Star Signs. She's THE authority on all matters astrological.