Friends getting divorced. To all my married friends who see this, I want you to know that I am sincerely happy about your marriages. I thoroughly enjoyed your wedding, think your wife/husband is terrific and am overjoyed you’ve committed to your life partner. However, let’s be real. Statistics show that half of you aren’t gonna make it, and if that’s the case for you, let me just say I hope it happens this decade, while we’re all still young enough to revel in it. I’m envisioning we’ll help you get over your failed marriage with last minute trips to Vegas or Montreal or Madrid. I’m gonna help my newly divorced friends open a new life chapter with drinks, food, music and reveling in the good life. It’s gonna be great.
Yeah, I’ve seen too many independent movies.
Meeting “adults” who were born in the 90s. I’m not afraid of the second half of the millennial generation coming of age. I mean, I guess the only thing to be afraid of is that they’ll make you feel old, by being better than you at doing your job or using technology or living life. But I, for one, think it will be cool to meet people who I can have normal adult conversations with, who can relate what it was like growing up in the 00’s, when I was in my 20s. If you were born in, say, 1995, the first CD you ever bought might have been, I dunno, Kanye’s Late Registration, except you didn’t even buy it on CD, because YOU’VE NEVER OWNED A CD. In 2015, you’ll be 25 years old, and I’ll be interested in hearing what you have to say about your youth, even though I’ll be, Jesus, 32.
Being in decent shape for my age. I’m probably not gonna win any exercising-all-the-time awards, but if I keep up my current regimen, or even kick it up half a notch, I think I may be will no longer be in slightly bad shape for my age and will hit decent shape for my age. Pretty exciting, right?
Coming to terms with my mortality. This something you do in your 30s, right? Again, I’ve seen too many independent movies.
Having a moustache. Covered in depth here.
Wearing nicer clothes. I spent my 20s alternating between a combination of thrift-store shirts and favorite hoodies, with a more Put This On, bespoke, dandy-ish style. As my 20s wore on, I started wearing a watch, and nice jackets, and button-up shirts that didn’t have cowboy buttons. I even wore shoes that weren’t sneakers, and when I did wear sneakers, I didn’t wear the same pair for months on end until they fell apart. I imagine in my 30s, that trend will only continue, until’ I’m decked out like Michael Caine in the 70s. Gonna be pretty dope
Taking grown up vacations. I kind of covered this in the “friends getting divorced” post, but I imagine in my 30s, the incidents of showing up at a friends doorstep with a 18-case for a long weekend of binge-drinking, skirtchasing and shit-talking will be completed sunseted. Instead, my arrivals will be announced well in advance. Couches and floors will be replaced by hotel rooms or well-appointed guestrooms. The case of beer will be replaced by a bottle of aged single-malt. The weekend won’t end with bruises, embarrassing photos, and text-conversations where everyone involved agrees that we should never do that again. It will be all quality meals, drunkenness that doesn’t turn dark and nice, clean, cultural experiences. It will be, in a word, adult.
Being SUPER DUPER RICH. I’ve pretty much assumed my whole life that I was eventually going to join the ranks of the 1%. Between having a store of insane creative talents, being extremely special/gifted/lucky, I always knew I’d grow into an actual work ethic and make millions. If it’s going to happen, it’s probably going to happen in my 30s. So I’m stoked for that.
Coming to terms with the fact that I probably won’t be SUPER DUPER RICH. Let’s be honest. It’s probably not gonna happen.