I know the majority of people who read my blog are already over 30, so if that's you, this might be a bit yawn worthy. But perhaps you can share some wisdom on what I had previously deemed as my impending doom.
I know my friends outside of LA have not been thrilled about turning 30, however I think being here makes every year older so much worse. Especially if one is pursuing acting, as I am. "You're as young as you feel" can take you far in just about any place other than here. Here, you are simply as young as you look. Even then, they want younger people to play older characters. I'm lucky that I'm still able to pass for mid - late 20s and should be able for a few more years to come, but the fact remains that my skin is getting a bit ruddy and fine lines are probably around the corner, so my aspirations of playing characters who are like I "feel" are slowly slipping away. I've already auditioned a few times for mum roles, though thankfully young mums rather than a mother of teenagers. Phew!
Another thing that is paining about this transition is my style. Over the past year or so, I've really transitioned into 60s, mod fashions with white go-go boots to match. It's a fun and perky look which I wear well, despite appearing ethnically misplaced in it, but it makes me sad to think that once I get to 38, it is likely I will look stupid in short skirts and go-go boots. So no matter how young I may feel, I may have to hang those up by that time. I'm keeping all my 50s dresses in reserve for that time so I can settle into a nice classic look while hopefully maintaining some dignity in skirts that fall below the knee. With my reluctance to hang up my boots, I must keep in mind my lack of foresight regarding the McDonald's playground. I'll forgive myself as I was about 8 or 9 at the time, but when I was reading the rules for the play area one day, it said it was for children under 12. I scoffed at the notion, terrified of the day that I would not be allowed to take the giant green slide, and insisted that I didn't care what that said, I would continue to play there AFTER I was 12. Well, as it turned out, there was no confrontation with the store manager or any such incident after January 5th, 1990. I had long stopped playing there before that date though sadly, not yet stopped eating there. I can only assume that I'll be over my currently age-appropriate style trend by the time is ceases to be so.
Ugh! Yes, Madonna, we believe that you're almost 50 and in great shape, now put your vagina away once and for all.
I've spent the far to much of the past two years dreading the day 8-9 days from now. Just obsessing about this number and all the bad things that I believed to go with it and not at all looking at where I am right now which is actually pretty good and appears to have been achieved through age and experience. I spent my late teens are early 20s doing pretty much nothing. Aside from having a great relationship wrapped up with a bow, I watched a lot of TV and had few serious interests. Nothing I could act upon anyway. I've never been disinterested, just inactive. I've always been prone to laziness, so that coupled with a lack of serious interest in things that couldn't be Googled, left me doing very little. But now, as I approach this milestone, I've got a lot of irons in the fire. I take boxing classes, I sew, I knit, I'm in a cool book club (really, it IS cool), I manage Supergrass' MySpace page, I write this blog and while my acting career isn't really going anywhere, I'm at an all time high, skill-wise. These things aren't all leading me to any great career advances, but that really doesn't matter to me. I'm busy and doing things that interest me and creating things I'm proud of which is very satisfying, whether or not it's lucrative. I spent my whole life obsessing over music and the creativity of others all the while accepting that I didn't have any of my own. Well, it's taken me almost 30 years to discover that I am creative and feel comfortable enough to express and share that with others.So thank you blog readers for helping me find myself. God, that way gay. Is that what I have to look forward to in my old age? Using retarded cliches to express myself? Fuck....
...to me