The Reluctant Receptionist

well, folks, i’m 29 today. it’s impossible to say if i’m where i thought i would be at 29, because honestly i’m not sure i ever had a real idea of where i thought i’d be. i mean, i knew that i’d be in new york (or would’ve died trying); i hoped that i’d be in a happy, stable relationship; and i guess that somewhere in the back of my mind i thought i’d be making a living singing. i have the first two down pat, and i think that those are probably the most important. and i’m working on the third, as you all know, as hard as i can.

if there’s been a highlight to my birthday (so far, i should say, as i’ve spent most of the day at work and am going to dinner at walter’s after choir and going to celebrate on saturday night) besides the le creuset pot that amanda and phong got me (YES, i am that gay, and YES i am that excited), it’s been all the well-wishes from friends that i’ve gotten. i woke up this morning to a voicemail from robin and an email from dad. as the day’s progressed i’ve been flooded with emails, texts, g-chats, and facebook messages. it’s made me feel very special and very loved, indeed. i’m totally excited for my birthday party saturday, which we’re having at the phoenix. all of my favorite people in new york are coming out to celebrate, and i’m looking forward to it most of all because it’s just such a great group of people all smushed in the same room. all these people from different aspects of my life, all coming together. it’s gonna be fun.

and so i have one more year until i’m 30. 30 is the age, it’s always struck me, when you’re actually an adult. when you’ve grown out of all the vestiges of kid-dom; when you can’t be all that crazy anymore because there might actually be some consequences. but as i’ve gotten older, i’ve started to realize that that’s kind of a childish way of looking at things. yeah, i’m older now, but there’s always going to be a grain inside me that’s always me. no matter how i change, i’ll always have my fucked-up sense of humor; i’ll always be moved in some way by things that moved me when i was 16. i think that finding a way to find joy and excitement in those things the way that you did when you were a teenager is the key to—dear god, shoot me for saying this—staying young. as i’ve started to slough off some of the hangups of my teenage years and early adulthood—caring so much what people think of me, for one, and being increasingly able to see the bigger picture—i’ve almost gotten to the point where i can get back to being me. over the last couple of years, i’ve had experiences (live shows of tori and bjork, last spring’s trip to san francisco, dancing my ass off in clubs, the hundred laughs a day i share with phong) that have snapped me out of my day job tie-wearing dress-shoe subway commute 8-hour-a-day-at-a-computer drudgery and reminded me this life is a brief, wonderful, joyful thing.

my grandpa is 94 years old and going into a nursing home as soon as he’s released from the hospital. but you know what? he lived a crazy life with his wife, who he still crazy loves. 29 is 29. with any luck, i’ll make it to 30. and then 94.