“Dirty” Thirty – Expectation and Result

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Tomorrow is my 30th birthday. That’s right, I’m entering into a brand new decade, the “dirty” thirties. Ten, no, even five years ago, I think I would have psyched myself out about my future of turning the “Dreaded” 30. You’re reading from a girl who had a total panic attack the eve of her 25th birthday (Hey! I never claimed to be completely sane!).¬† With shows between then and now, promoting turning 30 and 40 and how glamorous and fun it could be, I’ve had plenty of time to adjust my thought process around turning 30. I’ve been told by several 30 – 30 somethings that 30 is the new 20 and that it’s just so much fun! Are these people tricking themselves into thinking this or were they right? Well, now, even with only a slight bit of hesitation, I can admit to looking forward to a new decade.

It’s just like last week’s post about A New Beginning! The new decade could offer up a new life, a new leaf, a new outlook. All the things I wish to accomplish this year, none of them happen to be the same as my life plans for 30 when I was 20 and WAY more idealistic. They’re great goals, but along with those great goals, are a new way of thinking about achieving them!

Modern Cleopatra and friend. Fabulous, right?

Cleopatra & friend. Fabulous, right?

Now I had my 30th birthday celebration on Saturday. It was costume / mask themed and I had many of friends come out to celebrate with me and I got to dance A LOT; albeit not as much as I wanted to as not as many people wanted to join me, but that was okay, I was Cleopatra, Queen of the Night! I thought about writing this post the week before my birthday to write about my expectations. Of course, we all have these thoughts as to how things are going to happen or would like them to happen. That slipped right down the drain, as I just had zero time to put it all together. So here I am now kind of putting my expectations and reality together into one post.

My expectations to the night were that there would be magic. All of my closest and not so close friends would come out and help me celebrate a new year of life and we’d all dance our faces off into dawn. Perhaps I’d meet a handsome beau and kick of a brand new whirlwind of a romance. Perhaps, we’d get into an adventure, a caper if you will. May be we run into some other old friends on a whim, or we went downtown and met someone famous. Whatever, SOMETHING exciting. None of that did really happen.

So did anything crazy magical happen? Nope. Nothing special happened, just your run-of-the-mill birthday celebration. The random encounter with a handsome bloke? THAT almost happened! It was surprising but didn’t happen, but funny that it ALMOST happened (stupid hand grenades and horseshoes!) and I’ll explain. Some of my closest friends couldn’t make it, one of them making THE worse excuse about not making it, but I just shrugged that off. What mattered was the fact that those who came out did and we all had a blast. It was fun and I was so excited to see everyone who showed up AND participated in the theme of the night.

So “random romance run in” that happened began as something almost magical that could have been a wonderful story to share with my children or whatever, but it ended in a flop. My friend, Robyn came out and brought me some pretty great gifts and a fantastic card. I was opening the card to read, as I was hit in the back of the head by a sharp object. It didn’t hurt, but was enough to notice. I looked down to see a paper plane on the floor. I picked it up and looked around to see if one of my friends happen to throw it and no one seemed to have been the culprit, so I carried on reading my card and opening my presents. Robyn gave me two great books; “Feminist Ryan Gosling” and “How to tell if your cat is Plotting to Kill You”, by Oatmeal. I was SO excited about the books

Look at that gorgeous face!

Look at that gorgeous face!

Once I thanked and hugged her for the gifts, we went about enjoying the night. Then this random dude comes over to let me know that his friend made the paper plane, but he threw it to get my attention so that he could set me up with his friend. Being someone ready to give new fellas a chance, I decided to be a bolder Heather and walk over to their table and introduce myself to the paper plane craftsman. His friend tells me, “This is my friend. He’s single, good-looking and just started a new job.” Honestly he had me at “hey he’s wearing a cardigan *SWOON*”, but that was a Heather observation. So, I said hello to this fella and asked him if this paper plane was my birthday present. He simply said, “Yeah, you can keep it. Happy Birthday.” then walked away.

“Wow!” I thought, and his friend thought we’d work out well, eh? I guess he didn’t realize that I have standards, like politeness and being cordial. It was okay. I wasn’t going to let that ruin my night. What did I do? I shrugged it off, walked away and went back to what i do best, DANCING my tushie off. Who needs a stuck up, cardigan sporting snob ruining her birthday celebration? Not Cleopatra, that’s for sure!

Hipster Cleopatra in the Hizzity House!

Hipster Cleopatra in the Hizzity House!

Some of us went on to a new place and danced a while longer. A few of my friends decided that they would be showcasing their “twerkin” and demonstrated their skills on the dance floor. It was fantastic and made my day. I guess the night ended up being magical anyway. Not the way I wanted it to be or could plan for, but for the fact that I got to be with my friends and end it all off with The “Chicago Twerk Team”, the same group of friends I’ve known since college, who came out just to celebrate with me and entertain me. I love all of my people and feel so blessed to have them in my life and to be loved by them! Thank you again, from the bottom of my heart to everyone who came out for my birthday shenanigans! SO as I roll in this new age, in about 30 minutes or so, I reflect to appreciate all the great, tangible things in my life, friends and family. And I get to celebrate again this time in form of the ancient Japanese art of karaoke! Whose blessed? Hipster Cleopatra’s blessed!

'Chicago Twerk team', photo courtesy of Ingrid Dyer.

‘Chicago Twerk team’, photo courtesy of Ingrid Dyer.

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