It probably comes as no surprise to anyone that when I was 15 this isn't how I pictured my life would be by the time my age had doubled. Im pretty sure that's just standard procedure. I'm not even sure I ever imagined myself turning 30 at all, it was just too far in the future. I knew for a fact that once I'd finished my schooling, including Degree, Masters and whatever professional qualification I needed to be a Q.C. Barrister or top flight Journalist, or whatever I chose, that within a a few years I'd be settled with a big house in the city, maybe one in the country too, and all the trappings that came with that, including the stunning girl of my dreams, and maybe even a rug-rat or two to complete the scene. I figured it would be likely I'd have my own chat show or something too, because people would obviously want to get as much of me as they could.
I knew these things would happen of course because I was without doubt the smartest person in at least the county, apart from Jenny Cochrane of course. And despite possessing a personality that somehow managed to combine arrogance with crippling shyness and an almost complete lack of social skills, and a face that, well, wasn't gonna win £10 in Monopoly any time soon, I knew for a fact it was only a matter of time before I became irresistible to girls, all of them. How could I possibly fail to achieve all my dreams at an impressively young age?
Kids are stupid aren't they. Especially when they're me.
Even if in my more humble moments I could have admitted some of these certainties were a little far fetched, I don't think I would ever have said that, on my 30th birthday, I'd be a single man earning his money playing records to 18 year olds, living in a rented flat and spending much of his days sitting around in his pants watching Top Gear repeats. Even less so that I'd be quite happy with that.
I'm not a success. Not in any of the ways the younger me would have defined success. I don't have my own house and a large nest egg, there's no better half, not even on the horizon, I'm in absolutely no danger of being surprised by the Big Red Book anytime soon, I haven't changed the world in any significant way, I don't have an Olympic Medal or a Man of Steel trophy gathering dust, and if I was to pop my clogs tomorrow nobody would declare a national holiday, all they'd do is redirect my credit card bills to my mum.
But despite an excessive amount of time on the sofa, I've done some stuff. I've found a way to make a living doing something I enjoy and giving me all the free time I could need, for now anyway. I did things instead of talking about them, I created something and built it into a locally recognised thing, I got involved in a community and, for a short while at least, made a difference to it. Whether what I did was positive or negative I can't say, but at least I did it, and I tried to do things as right as I could understand. I was in a band, a decent band, and by being in that band I got to do things that not everyone gets to do, things that my nephew will probably be impressed by once he's old enough to understand what they were, and other things he'll find far from impressive but that will stay with me for as long as I'm young enough to remember what they were. I've been in a relationships, or whatever you call them, with some amazing girls (and I saw them naked!), a couple of them even claimed to love me for a moment. I've had close friends, and kept them. I've been to some incredible places in the world, and taken part in adrenaline soaked activities such as skiing, parachuting, and having my hair cut. And, it's only a small thing, and something everybody does now and again, but on occasions, I've made people laugh, I'm not sure there's anything better a person can do that that.
Of course it is worth noting how most, if not all, of the last paragraph is in the past tense. If I were the reader, I'd probably read into that, that's what readers do you see, saves the writer pointing it out. Lazy bloody writers.
It's all good though. 30 isn't an ending, it's a beginning, Disney provide our children with a totally realistic view of the world, and we're all invited to the Father Christmas & Easter Bunny wedding next week.
Mmm... Nachos.
(This somewhat soppy blog was brough to you be the Numbers 3 & 0, and the Letter I.)
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