This past weekend I had a realization at a friend’s wedding:
31 feels like being buzzed and getting carried away by a crowd of screaming adults running for the dance floor when the DJ plays “MMMBop.”
31 also feels like getting really excited to try out a new broom. Please hold your witch jokes. Actually, don’t.
21 never felt like complaining about standing outside at Basilica Block Parties in the blazing July sun and using the Porta Potties. 31 feels like attending concerts with assigned seating where one can sit and drink.
21 felt like keeping up with scarf belts and donning dresses over jeans. 31 shrugs when it sees itself in photos wearing one of two favorite shirts, not because it doesn’t have more than two, but because it doesn’t give a hoot.
21 drank Blue Hawaiian Boone’s Farm. 31 just wants some whiskey.
21 enjoyed staying up late and sleeping in until noon. 31 wakes up early mostly because it just can’t sleep in anymore and really just wants drink coffee and eat ham. Then, it feels prideful and kind of perplexed about its ability to nap after drinking three cups of coffee. This wasn’t always so.
31 feels like Uncle Rico betting he can throw a football over them mountain and doesn’t think he’s so crazy for trying. It also quotes Napoleon Dynamite a lot.
31 doesn’t get Meghan Trainor, but it does get Lukas Graham’s “7 Years” & because it hits close to home. 21 thought Bon Jovi was hot, and, well, I guess 31 does, too.
31’s hair is beginning to turn gray and possibly get thinner; its eyes are developing crinkles around the edges from three decades of smiles and tears while gravity tugs at the caboose.
However, 31 feels braver. It doesn’t need to go to the bathroom in groups. 31 embarks on solo road trips and enjoys dining alone sometimes. 31 finds it easier to reply to insults with snappy comebacks and is generally pickier than 21 because it knows what it likes. 21 floundered alone a lot, while 31’s like “Screw it, I’m asking for help.”
31 still screws-up [a lot] but finds it easier to own mistakes with an, “I’m sorry. What can I do to make things better.” And saying no at 31 still isn’t easy but it’s easier and so worth it.
31’s not so bad. In fact, it’s pretty darn good.
