The Summer I Turned 30
this one is about the upcoming summer season and also about turning 30
I’ve partially written and rewritten this piece a few times over because life has been so wonderfully full and busy lately. People have a hard time believing that I am, in fact, an introvert, so it’s moments like these that remind me that I am. My wonderfully full and busy life as of late has been… well, wonderfully full and busy, which, I’ve learned over the years about myself, is never a pace that allows me space and time to think, to marinate, and to reflect. The noise of a life outside is equally beautiful, valid, and necessary, but I sometimes find that I have a hard time turning the noise down and myself up.
So here I am, sitting on the back porch of my Mom’s house in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, enjoying the not-humid, 70 degree mornings, as words flow for the first time in a while (okay—it’s only been a few weeks).
Returning home always gets me all kinds of nostalgic and I suppose that’s what this post is supposed to be about: self-reflection. After celebrating a birthday, and a whirlwind, too-short of a trip to Mexico City, I’m home again, filled with a combination of reflective post-vacation blues, a need to pause, and most importantly, an excitement for what the future has in store.
Let’s start here:
I turned 30! And it was kind of, sort of, alotta super fucking cool.
I’m not usually one for big birthday celebrations. No, really (see introvert comment above)! Last year I celebrated my birthday by eating ginormous cake slices with my mom (RIP to Paper Route Bakery) while I made her watch The Bear with me, which is normally more my speed. But this year was different, and the promise of turning 30 turned the anti-birthday-birthday girl into one who would begin working on her birthday party concept six months prior.
Birthdays are weird. They never quite live up to their own expectations and for those of us who usually prefer to celebrate in way that’s a little more low-key, we’re always met with a look that says: “Are you sure you don’t feel like you’re missing out?”
While I often find big birthday celebrations too stressful (and no, I don’t feel like I’m missing out, but thanks for asking), I wanted to celebrate in a bigger way this year. Truthfully, I couldn’t miss out on an opportunity to say a big “fuck you” to societal expectations about how I should feel about getting older, let alone turning 30, and it made sense to do the thing I love for the people I love. I wanted to feed my people and then spend the rest of the evening losing track of time over good food and a whole lot of belly laughs, so the best way I could think of to celebrate was throwing a huge dinner party and inviting my favorite people I’ve met over the years.
I know what you’re thinking.
You really catered your own birthday party?
I sure did. It is my love language after all.
Come on! You know I love a good dinner party.
Though it was a lot of work, it felt worth it to me, and before the party, during, and after I’ve been filled with a sense of gratitude. I’m sure the 30th-birthday-panic is real for a lot of people, and shit, maybe I’ll even experience it myself, but in a world where we’re witnessing so much grief and tragedy on a global (and sometimes even personal) scale, growing older just feels like a privilege.
The menu went, as follows:
bread, balsamic, & olive oil
a shaved radish & beet salad with a citrus-scallion vinaigrette
rigatoni alla vodka
pesto spaghetti
and a coconut & peach-cardamom layer cake made by the inimitable
i totally forgot about popsicle service (
whoops, sorry guys) and now have a large amount of italian ices from tarjáy to finish myself so let me know if you want to eat popsicles sometime
Pasta was served buffet style, while plates of the salad, bread, and accompanying balsamic/olive oil were already set out on the table to be shared family-style. I did most of the prep in the days leading up to the party, so that when they day came, the only thing I had left to do was make a salad dressing and cook the pesto spaghetti.
It felt like such a gift to be able to bring my favorite people from different chapters of my life all together in one space. Some of these people have known me since I was a new Austinite, newly 23, and ready to take the Austin fitness scene by storm. Others were fairly new friends, made within the last year, who have quickly weaseled their ways into my heart. Every single one of them were people who have played a role in my last decade of my life. It really was a great night and everything I wanted it to be (even though I forgot the popsicles), but I’m not sure if I’ll be itching to throw a 30+ person dinner party any time soon.
Ya girl needs to rest.
Only days after my big 30th birthday party, I went on my first international trip since 2008.
I know! That’s a pretty large gap, but my first passport was issued to me at the age of 13, so securing a passport as an adult meant I had to reapply entirely. If you know me, you also know that I’m a bit of a procrastinator when it comes to detail-oriented, have-your-shit-together kinds of things, so of course it’s taken me four to five years to actually kick my own butt into getting it together.
It looks like I just need deadlines in my personal life too to really get things done.
A spontaneous invitation to join a friend on a Mexico City trip is what led me to rush my passport. Riding the thrill of saying ‘yes’ to the aforementioned invitation, I managed to get my application and all appropriate documents together in time for my passport appointment that I scheduled two days later. The unrelated-best part about it? On the day of my passport appointment, I also had about sixteen hours to start and finish a birthday cake for one of my best friends, which is hilarious because making it to your passport appointment while building an extravagant layer cake sounds like it could be some chaotic challenge on a cooking competition show.
Anyway, I paid the rush fee and three weeks later, I had a passport.
My first takeaway from our Mexico City trip was that we did not stay long enough.
Everyone tells you that there’s so much to do, and there’s no way you can do all of it, but boy, was I wrong when I thought that two and a half days would be enough time for me to get my travel fix in. I don’t have any regrets, but those two and and a half days were jam-packed, and for next time, I now know that a few extra days will be necessary.
We rented the cutest little AirBnb in La Condesa (no A/C though which was an adventure all on its own) and explored everything from art markets in San Angel, to churros in Parque Mexico, to late nights weaving our way through the crowds at a Luche Libre show.
Traveling to Mexico City, though brief, reminded me that there is so much world out there. I won’t say that it’s comfort that keeps me tied to home, but I will admit that I’m a little too obsessed with my cats and that ever since the pandemic, traveling hasn’t exactly been a priority of mine. I suppose my biggest takeaway from this trip was that I’d like to do more exploring (and that my cats will be fine if Mom leaves for a vacation)! Exploring somewhere new was like a breath of fresh air and reflected back to me my previous desires to discover what could be next for me after Texas. Don’t panic, Texas friends! I’m not saying I’m leaving right now, but I’m not married to saying either.
There’s just so much world out there, you know?
My Mexico City trip reminded me of my hopes for the future, my need to explore, and that I’ll now and forever ride for Jenni’s Quesadillas.
I was wondering when this post would come! I have two thoughts: 1. I need a do over for your birthday cake and a buttercream that will better hold up to the heat (it's not cream cheese, I've learned my lesson). 2. I'm proud of you for not apologizing for taking time away from writing.