i was going to let this one slide.  i really was.  it's just another day. nothing major.

i've never really made a big deal about it.  all the attention actually makes me kind of uncomfortable. i prefer a low-key, intimate sort of celebration.  a moment's recognition, a nice dinner and the company of loved ones is all i need.

getting older doesn't bother me.  i don't feel 'old'.  at least not any older than i did yesterday, or the day before that.  i've even made my peace with the first few grey hairs and fine lines making their debut.

so it's no biggie, right?  well...

there's something about watching the odometer roll past the twenties that makes me pause to think.  should i feel any different?  do i have to change?  does turning 30 mean my license to slack is permanently revoked?  am i expected to start acting my age?  how exactly does a 30-year-old act, anyway?

my conscience seems to be divided on the issue.  oh!  the inner conflict!  optimist and cynic hash it out while my brain reels from the dialogue:
 

o: what really counts is that we're young at heart.
c: right.  so let's put out that cigarette, switch to decaf and forget about those brownies before that ticker of ours goes into early retirement.

o: we're entitled to indulge and enjoy life a little!
c: ok, have a brownie.  might as well enjoy having teeth while we still can.

o: don't be ridiculous.  we will grow older gracefully.
c: we're a klutz at everything else, why should this be any different?

o: very funny.  at least we still have a sense of humor.
c: that's my sense of humor.  i'm the funny one, remember?

o: oh, grow up, will you?
c: that's what i've been trying to tell you!

nope.  turning 30 hasn't changed me a bit.  it just gave me a headache. pass the tylenol.