‘pologies for disappearing for a while, but I’ve been very busy. And then I turned 30. I would say I’ve been very busy turning 30 but all I had to do was not stop breathing and it pretty much happened all by itself. I appreciate that many people have crises about the reaching the 30 mark, but I really haven’t… less a loss of youth than a definite acceptance of being grown-up.

I had one thing planned to do for turning 30 (and not even before I turned 30), and that was to go to Japan in spring 2008 – but then, almost by accident, I acquired the flat and the cat so I have no problems postponing Japan for a few years. It’s not like it’s going anywhere. And I’ve traded a holiday for… what? Control. And freedom. Not being at the whim of a landlord any more. I am 30. I am free from the nightmare of bailiffs coming after the man who takes my rent, or the washing machine that floods every three months, or the proffered solution to a freezing cold house of "turn the thermostat up". 30 represents two fingers to every shitty landlord I ever had.

And two fingers to all the people who ever asked me when I was "coming home" – back to Leeds. As though chasing a life away from closed Yorkshire suburbs was a silly fantasy I’d soon grow out of. I’m 30 now. The people who tried to tell me how I should be living my life have stopped talking. Or I stopped listening. One of the two.

I’m 30. Dreams and ambitions have crystallised, no longer the fuzzy shapes seen through a 20-something alcoholic haze. I know what I believe in. I know who I am. Teenage angst has served its purpose and left the building. I am content. And what’s more, I’m content that when I am 40 I will be able to say, again, that I’m content, that I got what I wanted and had the wisdom to let the rest go without getting all hung up. Maybe that’s the secret of getting older – to realise you’re never going to have everything, but what you don’t have won’t kill you?

Unless what you don’t have is the antidote to that spider bite, of course.


5 responses to “Thurdy

  1. Will January 21, 2008 at 10:25 pm

    One question – how is having a cat that stops you from going on holiday freedom?

  2. Rachel January 22, 2008 at 9:56 am

    He doesn’t stop me going anywhere. He just costs me money in catsitters (or, in the case of Japan, flights for my parents and food *ahem*) and vet bills when I get back.
    No fool cat stop me gettin’ on no plane…

  3. David January 23, 2008 at 4:10 pm

    Still reading the blog! Happy (belated birthday). Have emailed you a picture of the latest addition to our HG family.
    Definitely go to Japan cat or no cat.

  4. kate January 23, 2008 at 11:20 pm

    Hey, I can always move in for a bit if it helps with the going-away thing. Me and Mr Elgar get on ok I think …

  5. Rachel January 25, 2008 at 11:16 pm

    Ah, I do love it when Typepad doesn’t notify me about comments.
    David – aww, lovely kitteh!
    Kate – I’ve already booked my parents for various Japan-sitting activities. The flights will probably be cheaper than the cat sitter! And Mum seems to need to come back to the UK to go to BhS once a year.

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