Well, another year in the books. 31. Weird. They just keep sneaking up on me. All and all, I had a pretty good birthday. The one thing about this birthday that is certain, it definitely wasn’t like past years. There were no grand celebrations, no scorpion bowls, no car bombs, no crypt keepers. But you know what? I’m really OK with that. I knew going into this deal that sacrifices were going to have to be made. Birthdays come and go, but once in a lifetime opportunities don’t just fall at your doorstep. At least not for me.

Part of what made it not such a big deal for me (other than some great friends who made sure to still make me feel pretty loved), is the firm realization that I am a lucky son of a bitch. I crammed more fun into my 20′s than most people get to do in a lifetime. But you know what? I wouldn’t relive that time in my life for a million bucks. Alright, maybe a million…or at least enough money to pay off my overbearing student loans and get a lap dance or two. Sure, we had some awesome times that I’ll treasure for the rest of my life…and damm if there weren’t a few mistakes I’d like to undo along the way. But my 20′s were wrought with a complete uncertainty that I’d never want to go through again. Who I was, where I was going, what my path in life was going to be. It was nothing short of controlled chaos, and I wasn’t always alone in the aftermath it created.

Being a teenager was easy, there was no expectations. Hell, staying out jail was meeting expectations for the most part. But my 20′s? Well damm. All the fun, the adventures, and the partying did nothing more than help distract me from the reality of knowing that quite frankly, I didn’t know where the hell I was going. I just knew I had to get there fast. The pressure of my reputation, my demons, and my own unreasonable expectations put me in a place where I could never really relax. It was always about what’s next. The next goal, the next conquest, the next move. It was never about where I was, it was always about where I was going. I may have picked up a few enemies over the years (and I use the term “a few” loosely), but none were bigger than the guy I saw in the mirror every morning. Or late afternoon. Whatever.

I never really ever planned life after 30. It seemed so far away, and I seemed so far away from being old enough to relate to it. I always assumed it would just take care of itself. Boy, was I wrong on that one. It’s funny. I spent most of 20′s running forward at 100 miles an hour, but never really knowing the actual destination. Now it seems like I know exactly where I’m headed, but the ride moves just a little bit slower. At the end of the day: I know what I want, and I know what I don’t want. That alone made all the madness worthwhile I guess.

Sure, there are goals I sometimes wish I got to earlier than I did. Everyone does. Marriage, kids, houses, promotions….hindsight is always 20/20. But you know what? I’m still going to get where I’m supposed to be one way or another. I think for the first time in my life, I’m completely content with the now. Not relishing the past, not fixated on the future. I’m just loving every bit of now. My 30′s is where I learned to stop sweating the small stuff, and for an anal retentive bastard like me…that’s the closest thing to a miracle I’ll ever find. Good or bad, all you can do is take the things you’ve learned along the way, and use them to make today better than it was yesterday.

And today will be better than yesterday……..no doubt about it. This ride is just getting started.

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