Do I dare to eat a peach?

I’m 30 today, bitches. Yeehaw!

The shock, followed by the resignation.

The shock, followed by the resignation.

I guess I’m supposed to say how it seems like only yesterday that I was a bright-eyed college student with my whole world-oyster ahead of me, but that would be a goodly bit of bullshit. A lot has happened since then–good, bad, and in the middle–and sometimes I barely recognize 21-year-old me. Other times I wonder if 30-year-old me would even like 21-year-old me.

Then I wonder if 30-year-old-me and 21-year-old me would get in a cat fight, and, if so, who would win.

(I think 30-year-old me would kick some ass. I work out these days, you know.)

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13 responses to “Do I dare to eat a peach?

  1. Happy birthday! Welcome to the Fourth Decade.

  2. Thanks!
    We grow old… we grow old… we shall wear the bottom of our trousers rolled…
    (cue: dragging chains, creaky door, scream)

  3. The 30 year-old version of me would kick the 21 year-old version of me’s ass.

    I’m guessing it’s the same with you.

  4. Totally.
    We’re old and buff… OLD AND BUFF!

  5. 30 year old you would have felt sleepy and gone home before 21 year old you even got to the bar.

    The probability of the two of you having a catfight is nil.

  6. I would get so indignant about this comment were it not completely accurate.

  7. Happy belated Jess!

    Hope you had a grand ole time!

  8. The 30 year old me would best the 21 year old me in all aspects save drinking.

    And I’m fine with that.

  9. egads, y’all don’t even wanna know about 21 year old Murphy…

  10. 21 year old Murphy sleeps in a pizza box fort and owns a pet raccoon named Heinrich. He also pesters 21 year old Jess for spare change (who has none) in order to buy Fimirs.

  11. Haha!

    Those are indeed fimirs.

    Ack(x3) you are spot on.

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