ut I'm a ways yet from buying the house in the 'burbs and wallpapering the
nursery. Besides, turning 30 has its good side. You know how they said that
women reach their sexual peak at 30? Well, it's true. And it's fucking
wonderful. Since hitting 27, I've become increasingly ravenous. Not only do I
know what I want, but I know what I don't want. On the other hand, if
the peak is at 30, what happens at 31? I don't want to ask.
I remember reading somewhere that "the 30's are a woman's best decade," still
strong bodied and youthful, but with the intelligence and self-confidence that
comes only from experience. Although, come to think of it, this might've been
in an Erica Jong book, so I could have 10 years of psychoanalysis and
ill-suited lovers facing me.
In the meantime, I plan to act as young as possible, savor every last taste of
young adulthood until I can figure out a way to grow old gracefully. And by the
time I'm cashing in Social Security (oops, wait, there won't be any Social
Security funds left in 2031) well, let's just say they can bury me
in my NaNa boots, as far as I'm concerned.
I hope they make fishnet support hose to go with 'em.