30 Before 30 : All posts

30 Before 30

column: Living with an anxiety disorder: The signs were there all along

A history of mental illness is like a tornado warning at the bottom of the TV screen. It doesn’t guarantee a tornado, or that if there is one, it will do serious damage. Most of the time, it doesn’t even distract you from normal daily programming.

But… it’s there. And while you don’t have to spend your life cowering in the basement, it’s a good idea to have one.

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Column: 30 Before 30: On cultivating a fighting face and fancy feet

“You want to see me self-defend myself? Go over there and pretend to be a sexual predator. Go on, I dare you!” — Rachel on "Friends"

Being a lady is complicated. After all, we’re complex creatures. We have odd plumbing, our brains are wired like a subway map, and we watch people on TV solely because we hate them.

Actually, that last applies to men, too.

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30 Before 30: Saying yes to Michigan

Geography was never my strong suit in school. While I could spell the hell out of Zimbabwe, I had zero chance at giving someone directions other than a vague wave at a map and a mumbled “over there… ish.”

But, I do believe that one should always at least be familiar with his home geography — his own country, at the very least. Know your states. A plus for capitals. And know a little bit about your home state. Whether you choose to take pride in your state, for whatever reason — its sports team, its lakes, or its amusement parks — you should at least be able to tell out-of-towners where these things are located. And if you can throw in some smaller cities and restaurant recommendations, so much the better.

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30 Before 30: Got the English degree - now what?

I don’t remember much about the day I left for college. I know my father and sister were impatient to leave and annoyed at the amount of crap I had managed to cram into a Saturn sedan. I remember sitting on the bare wooden window seat in my empty room, looking at my dog in the backyard. I remember some of the car ride to Massachusetts, mostly boring, and keeping my admissions documents next to me at all times.

But mostly I remember my mother and the peanut butter.

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30 Before 30: Life at a funeral - from an atheist's viewpoint

I don’t care for dead people. Whether they’re on TV, on the news, or in the same room with me: they scare me, and I’m fine with that.

At funerals, I’ve always been a fan of the “milling around at the back of the room” crowd than peering over the actual body. Not because it’s morose, but because I always imagine the recently deceased jumping from the casket and biting the necks of family members. Or at the very least, opening their eyes and saying “Boo.”

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The Deuce: 30 Before 30: A whole nude me

Some people are born thin. They come from thin people, eat what they want, and never give a day’s care to the size and shape of their bodies. These people must have been very, very good in past lives.

Previously, I must have been a supervillain.

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30 Before 30: Operation: Cheeseburger

I’m the first to admit: there are a lot of things on this list that don’t need to be. I don’t really need to speak French or dye my hair pink. Those aren’t needs. Needs are a house, food, enough money for bills and possibly a car. And whenever I tick off something frivolous, as I suppose today’s entry is, I feel somewhat saddened. Have I cheapened my existence because I chose to learn to play guitar than cure cancer? Would this time be better spent in meditation, pondering the big questions instead of celebrating the small things?

And then I realized: the small things are what make you a whole person. In my case, a somewhat quirky person—not a perfect person. Celebrating individuality is what makes turning 30 bearable: you’re that much closer to figuring out who you are, because you figure out what you’re not.

I am not a vegetarian.

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30 Before 30: Take dad out to the ball game

I had never been hugely into baseball. I went to college in Boston, and the yearly feud between the Sox and Yankees wasn’t something you could easily avoid (especially in 2004—suck it, Yanks), but I would turn games on purely for background noise.

Occasionally my father and I would talk Tigers; my grandmother would regale me with tales of Al Kaline while I sat on her brown shag carpet—but mostly what I knew of them is that they lost. A lot. And to watch them was to know that they would lose, and that we could talk about it and place blame later, over beers.

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30 Before 30: Guns, gardens and amateur radio

As I look over this list, I wonder if some of the items can be counted as cheating, seeing as I’ve already done them. Call me an overachiever, but the reality is I’m a victim of immediacy anxiety, always paranoid that I could be hit by a bus at any time, and what if I die without knowing how to juggle? That could be the test to get into heaven. Actually, I hope it is, because if it’s math, I’m screwed.

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30 Before 30: Where the finish line is 26.2

It occurs to me that the things that normally end up on this list are rather epic. While my novel gathers dust on my desk, snickering and waiting for me to welsh on my promise of completion, I can at least take comfort in the knowledge that I have completed one of the physical goals. During college, I lost 60 pounds--the normal way, eating right and exercising--and while it was a wonderful choice, I never really had that one elated, Rocky-esque "climbing 500 stairs and punching the air" moment. So I decided that, along with (and unbeknownst to) my brother, I would put myself at the mercy of that midlife-crisis physical challenge known as the marathon. Specifically, the Detroit Marathon, in October 2007.

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