Wanna get thirtaaay? (C. Becca Girl)

I recently turned thirty. Okay, so I literally just turned thirty four days ago. For all of you who have not crossed over the line into your thirties I have some good news for you. Turning thirty is a lot like getting a shot. There is all this anticipation. It's kinda scary. You're a bundle of nerves. You can't believe you have to go through this. And then it happens, and you're all like wait, what!? That's what I was afraid of!?!? Turning thirty was a piece of cake compared to what I had built it up to be. I think  turning twenty-nine was actually harder! Because all year it was the "last February in my 20's, the last March in my 20's, the last April in my 20's…you get the idea. Too much build-up and anticipation! But I'm here to say that four days into my thirties and things ain't so bad!

I think part of what blows my mind is thinking about how I've entered this decade verses how I will most likely leave it. I've always been kind of a late bloomer and this is no exception. I am entering my thirties unmarried, without children. When I leave ten years from now, I have a feeling much of that will be different. It's scary to think that my life ten years from now may be completely unrecognizable to me now. And while there are no guarantees to any of this, it's kind of a crazy thought to think the decade you have entered may bring you more change in your life than ever before.

I loved my twenties. But I fucked up a lot. I'm looking forward to fucking up less, because guess what? I know more stuff now. I feel so much smarter about life things now than I did at twenty-five or even twenty-six. I know myself and I am learning what I really need to be a successful adult. I feel more confident and I look better than I did at twenty-two. (Woof!) It's exciting. If this is what being thirty is about, then bring it on baby! And finally... it really helps to have the most incredible friends and family anyone could ever ask for. The love I received over the last few days has been overwhelming in the best way imaginable. My birthday party was such a special night spent with friends and family celebrating. Not everyone has friends that would devote their time to make a sign-in board for a 30th birthday bash (bat-mitzvah) filled with ugly pictures of you. Or make the unbelievable effort to individually wrap candy bars with pictures of your face. Thirty. You sound kinda scary. But so far, I like you just fine.

I'm Back!!!

Hello Mister Blog!!! It's so lovely to see you again! I've truly missed blogging and sharing my life's tales. I took a moment to think about why I haven't blogged in a few months. What comes to mind is just how busy I've been. But if I dig a little deeper, I think it may also have something to do with a growing level of maturity. Perhaps I don't feel the need to share every detail of my dating life anymore. (Or that every website now seems to be devoted to "twenty-something dating articles."). And who am I to be a cliche?

 It has been quite a year dating-wise. If you are my friend, then you know just what I mean. But for now, I will keep those memories to myself. It's funny, one night this summer I was at dinner with the man I was dating, Kyle. Over a bowl of baked ziti, I told him about the fifty-two journals that sit in a box under my bed in my parents house. I explained how I've been writing in a journal almost every day since I was twelve years old. He looked at me with a look of amazement and confusion I couldn't quite read. It was then that he said softly, "Don't you want to keep things private, just for yourself?" I replied, "Those journals are just for me, they are for myself." And then Kyle said, "I don't mean to be morbid, but one day when you're gone, those journals won't be for you--they will be for everyone. 

Well, he got me there. I surely had not thought of that. With that sentiment ingrained in my mind forever, I say this: To my future husband, children and grandchildren...I'm sorry  that you may one day have to read about your Grandma's naked adventures. At the very least, you'll know Grandma Lauren didn't miss out on her twenties.

This leads me to my next point. Tomorrow marks the last month of my twenties. In one month I will leave this crazy, confusing, life-altering, fun, surprising, life lessons learned decade behind. And I start a new chapter. It's a chapter I have many mixed feelings about. (Thank god for therapy). A good friend once said to me, "Fisher, I love you--but I don't want to be anywhere near you when you turn thirty. I have a feeling you won't go down easy."

He is probably right. But hopefully, (my fair blog readers), we will navigate through my thirties together. Until then.

Seasons have come and gone since I've written last. (Hello Summer, so lovely to see you again). Here is a short tale to ease myself back into the world of blogging.

On Friday night I was hanging out in a crowded bar. As I made my way through a sea of twenty-somethings, I attempted to get a drink near a group of boys who were taking shots at the bar. They were all attractive and looked to be on the younger side, maybe twenty-five or so. One of them started chatting me up, his hand kept touching my waist and the small of my back. I don't remember the beginnings of our conversation, but I do remember what stopped me in my tracks. He asked, "Where do you go to school?" I answered like I mis-heard him and said I went to The University of Rhode Island. "Ahhh, URI," he said. I haven't been asked what school I go to in a long time. Where do you go to school had been replaced long ago with, what do you do? Then my young friend asked me where I lived. I told him the neighborhood I lived in, and asked him the same. He told me he was living in the NYU dorms for the summer. And that's what this has come to. I was being hit on by a boy who was born in 1992, eight years my junior. A soon to be senior in college.  This would have been fine if this were 2005 and I was going into my senior year. But alas, I am twenty-nine. He asked for my number, I told him I was too old for him. He didn't believe me, and asked how old I was. I told him that he didn't want to know. He kept prodding until I finally said, "twenty-nine." He gasped, and I walked away.

Some Lessons about Boys and Things

If ever there was a week for reflection, this is it--just a few days shy of my twenty-ninth birthday, and Day four of my Strep throat/Flu sickness. Spending twenty plus hours in bed, self-reflection and introspection were high on my list of things to do. What I came up with is this: I have learned a great deal this year; in regards to others, as well as sharpening my understanding of myself. I'd like to use this post as a way to reflect on some of the significant relationships from my twenty-eighth year. I have been much more private in my blog than ever before, and tonight I return to my old ways. I want to write a little about the gents--but more importantly, the lessons that I came away with, when those gents and I parted ways. I will conclude tonight's post with "going forward" (in year twenty-nine), and the changes I hope to make. In the past when things didn't work out with a guy I liked, friends would say, "It's a learning experience." I used to think, I'd rather it just work out then "learn something," And, while I still hope for the relationship, as opposed to the post-relationship lesson... I am somewhat comforted by the amount I've learned this year.

Once I eliminated a toxic presence in my life, I was ready to let someone new in. And last February, I met Aaron. Aaron and I met at a mutual friend's wedding.  Aaron taught me many things, like if you're a boy, and you press hard onto my bladder it will make me laugh, and probably make me like you. Aaron and I shared an instant chemistry, and I will never forget how excited I was the day after the wedding, to tell my friends about this guy I had unexpectedly met. Aaron was very quick to share his feelings for me. (Something I was not used to), and was ready for a serious commitment early on. Valentine's Day was about a week after I had met him, and Aaron wrote me a very lovely Valentines note. It was quite possibly the nicest message anyone of the opposite sex has ever written to me. In the end, I don't think Aaron and I were quite right for each other, and I was the one who decided to end the relationship. What I took away from my time knowing Aaron is an understanding of what a guy will do for you, when he really cares about you. There was no game playing, and the courting process was simple and straightforward. After years of analyzing text messages, and Gchats-- it was an unbelievably refreshing change. Just as important, I learned that when something does not feel right, it's important to trust your instincts, and do what feels best--even if it's a difficult choice that may hurt someone else.

Then last June, on the first official night of summer, I met Dave. Our first date was simply fine. Dave was perfectly sweet and fun--I just didn't know if I could see us having more than a friend-like chemistry.  If after that date, I hadn't heard from Dave again, it would have been okay. But, when Dave asked me out a second time, I thought, sure, why not?  Date two was much, much better than date one. And by date three, I was smitten. Date four I was pretty much in love. (Okay, I wasn't actually in love by date  four). But, my point is: I let something grow slowly, and each time we saw each other, and the more I got to know him, I grew to like Dave more and more. It's how dating SHOULD be.  What I took away from my time with Dave is this: Take your time in getting to know someone. Take things slowly, you can always go slower than you think you have to. Give someone a chance. One date may not be enough to tell how you feel. (Unless of course said guy talks about how much ass he gets at bars each weekend--then it's okay not to go out with them again).  But, most importantly: Dave showed me how it  looks to end things in a polite, respectful way. When Dave decided to end our relationship, he did it in person; sensitively and kindly breaking the news to me. (Over a Bacardi and Diet Coke).  He certainly did not text or e-mail me. Or even worse--just stop talking to me. He behaved like a man, and treated me with the respect I deserved. His tact and kindness allowed me to move on much more quickly than he had left me with unanswered questions.

Most recently there was Adam.  This is a tough one to write about, because I'm still in throws of my "recovery." (Please forgive me if I sound mildly traumatized, it's because I am). By all rules applied, Adam and I should have never had a first date. We met at a bar, and went home with each other the very same night. Don't get me wrong. I was instantly attracted to Adam, not only physically, but I was attracted to his energy. I liked him right away. He was positive, cheerful with a great smile. I was quite certain that I was not the only girl in the bar who noticed him. The following day, I was certain I had "messed up," any chance of a real relationship. I tried to remain optimistic, that he could still take me seriously. And against all odds, he did. And, we went out on a proper date. (Otherwise known as backwards dating, when your first date happens after you've already seen each other naked). We had a few "proper dates," Those dates felt magical to me. Fun, engaging and just the right amount of flirtation. And as they say; it turned out that Adam was just not that into me. Rejection is never easy. Humbling? Yes. An experience everyone should go through? Yes. But, is it easy? Fuck no.  Especially when you really liked the person, and in the moments you spent together, you thought it was mutual. I write this to you as I try and sort out my hurt, and still confused feelings. Surely, everyone must feel that way, some form of--how could he/she not feel the same way I do? We've all been on both ends--this just might be the suckier end.

It's tough to have these relationships end before they get off the ground. And a person can only go through these disappointment so many times before (they lose their minds a little), and a change is made. The best I can come up with for now is remaining a bit more guarded. (Sans revealing things in my blog of course). Perhaps I am too open, (vulnerable), and am asking for trouble. Another important change I will make going forward is this: I vow to take things very slowly. Once the pants come off, all bets are off, and I'm probably gonna fall in love with you. Going forward, all I can do is try my very best to be cool. (I've never been good at that).  And yes, Keep those Spanx on!  (Until I know something is really going somewhere). It's just too hard otherwise.

LHS Ten Year Reunion!!!!

It has been months since my last post. (I am soyyy sorry). But, if ever there was a time for a blog revival...it is now! A lot can happen in ten years. For my students, this is their entire lifetime. For me, ten years ago at this time, I was a college freshman having come home for Thanksgiving for the very first time. I have endured many changes in the past decade. Certainly far too much to sum up in this blog post. But, to name a few: I went to college, started a career, experienced new people, and learned many, many important life lessons. And, yet. In the context of certain situations. (i.e: a highschool reunion), it feels like nothing has changed at all. It's almost odd in a way, it's as if the last ten years haven't even occurred.

 Last night I attended my ten year high school reunion. Not only was I an attendee, but alongside two others I planned the event. And it has to be said. The night was a smashing success, I could not have asked for a more unbelievably fun night if I had tried. A ten year reunion is one of those milestone moments in life that you hear about, or see portrayed in movies, and last night I experienced it firsthand.  For one night, I was a twenty-eight year old high school senior. And, I can't think of anything that could have made me feel happier.

The green and white balloons, (Go Lancers!), the late 90's/early 00's songs played by the DJ, and the genuine joy that was felt around the room all contributed to the amazingness of the night. (Well, all of that and the open bar).  Highschool reunions have the potential to be awkward. (Alcohol helps). There could be the fear of seeing an old flame, friends fallen out of touch, and yet--at the LHS Reunion, everyone was genuinely thrilled to be reunited together.

I am a lucky lady to have remained in touch with so many of my high school friends. (In fact, in 2013 I will be attending four high school weddings, two of which both the bride and groom graduated from high school together). And yet, there were still people who came to the reunion that I could not have predicted how excited I would be to see. Faces that I hadn't seen in years, and once the conversation began, it was like we were back in 2002, standing at our lockers in D-Hall.

What happened after the reunion was the best part. (Well, after the after-party, and the after-after-party).  It was the e-mails, texts, and Facebook messages that followed not only thanking me for planning the reunion, but also to share how good it was to re-connect. This is the best part. I came away from the reunion, feeling rejuvenated in my current friendships, and rekindled old ones.

I know. I am an interesting breed of human. Not all people care this much about highschool. And not all people would feel sad when highschool (and the reunion) ended. But, this is me. I can't begin to express the amount of fun I had on Friday night, or the actual feeling of sadness I have now that it's over. Do I really have to wait another ten years to do this again?

Ending this post feels appropriate with the following quote. A close friend of mine found two girls who he did not recognize at the reunion. Approaching them both he said. "Alright, let's get this over with, who the hell are you?"

Ah, I'll love you forever LHS. Thank you for introducing me to some of my favorite people in all of my life. To everyone who came last night, thank you for making it the actual best time ever.

Trash is dumped, and so are you!

Greetings from the last day of August. It's hard to believe how fast this summer has gone by. Every time I think about school being back in session next week, I actually want to cry small tears of sadness. This is not because I dislike my job, but rather an indicator of just how much I love summer.

It's been a really great summer filled with freedom, adventure, good times, hilarious times, and even some sexy times. Tonight, I write to you with one of the "not so good" times. And that is: Getting dumped.  I use the term "dumped" loosely, because the dumper was not my actual boyfriend. (We never made it that far), but he was someone that I was seeing on a weekly basis, investing my time and feelings. We had a real good run while it lasted. And, in the end this fellow, (who is really a lovely, stand up-person) felt this was a timing issue. I realize this sounds code for, "He's just not that into you." But, I don't think that was the case. It involves more detail, but in the small chance this is ever seen by him, well...I will keep that to myself.

We had a blasty-blast together, and it is disappointing to see something like that end. No matter what though, I appreciate that he had the courage to tell me in person. He did not text me, e-mail me, or even worse...phase me out. No. He manned up! (And broke the news to me over a Bacardi and Diet Coke). After "the talk", we chatted for a while, laughing and having fun. Moral of the story: You can dump me, and I'll still have fun with you immediately after.

 We stood outside the bar, trying to find the right words to say goodbye. Standing close together, about to hug, as a small man walked by us. The man stopped in front of us and said, "You guys make a  really good couple!" The man walked away, and we burst out laughing.  OF COURSE, I had just been told that I made a good couple with a guy who had litreally just dumped me twenty minutes earlier. Oh, timing. You are quite literally everything. The dumper (for lack of a better word), turned to me and said, "Yeah, I'm probably going to tweet about that. And, I replied--I'll probably be blogging about that too." And, with that we hugged one last time, and I walked away.

Summer Time Happenings

Last night at my post-kickball game drinks, one of my teammates asked what I've been doing with all of my free time, a la summer vacation. (Clearly, this time has not been spent blogging--I promise to write more often). And so, here I am with some summer time updates.

1. First and foremost, The Judys got engaged!! For those of you that don't know, the Judys are my older brother, Jeremy and his fiancé Christine. I am very excited for them. It was amazing to celebrate at Long Beach Island on Sunday with both of our families. I am so happy for my Judys!!! (Also, I made Judy pinkie-swear that I get to bring a date to his wedding.

2. On Tuesday night I participated in my very first GROUPER  experience with Becca Girl and Brookie. Grouper is a group dating website. (Becca secretly signed me up for this while she was over one afternoon). Grouper sends you and two friends on a "group date," with three guys who are all friends. In theory, this could be really great way to meet someone! Unfortunately, in our case it was not. While these guys were very sweet and friendly, they were not really for us. All was not lost though, as a lesbian named Katie found her way into our group date. She took a real liking to Becky, as she draped her arm around Becky's shoulder. While Becky may not have left our grouper meeting her future husband, who knows...maybe she met her wife!

3. On Wednesday night, I was at a friend from high school, (Heath F)'s birthday happy hour. While there, Becky and I met a group of guys. When I learned that they were only twenty-three, it was hard not to wince a little. But, here's the real kicker: These boys went to my higshchool. That's right!!! Of all the boys in the bar, the five that talked to us were members of Livingston High School's graduating class of 2007. Did our night end taking a hummer limo to a strip club with a group of twenty-three year old guys? Well, I'll never tell. But, Facebook will.

4. The LHS '07 boys asked me what year I graduated. 2002, I reluctantly said. Last week a Facebook group for our ten year reunion went out. I CANNOT WAIT!!!!

5. My gig as cooking counselor is going well! My hours are amazing, and working two days a week is actually a dream come true. Also, I lead a cooking (baking) class. Contrary to popular belief, I am not the camp chef.

6. On Wednesday afternoon, I was walking down 77th Street, when a woman sitting outside of a store told me that I had a positive aura. She also said more lovely things, and thus, she lured me in. As it turns out, she is a psychic.  And, as my friend Rweissypantz said, I am a psychic's wet dream. Using tarot cards, she told me the date of my engagement, the year of my marriage, and how many kids I will have. Do I believe in psychics? I don't know. Do you?

Sure, I've been up to other things too--like beaches, Shevitz family vacations, a Rhode Island wedding, and an Andyman and Brent reunion of sorts. It has been a great start to my favorite season in the world. And, it gets even better. This weekend the Schodack crew is heading to the place that will forever hold a spot in all of our summer hearts. Camp Schodack, here we come!!!