February 17th was a momentous occasion for me. It was my half-birthday. But not just any half-birthday. It was my 30 1/2 year old birthday. I thought turning 30 was a milestone, but that’s because I hadn’t yet turned 30 1/2. Not only am I six months older, wiser and more mature, but I am also more courageous. Why, just today I made the calm and rational decision to go to a friend’s house, even though it was snowing really hard, and stay there for a few hours. 6 months ago I might have panicked and headed home right away, but the new and improved; calm, cool and collected Crystal decided to stay and guess what? We made it home just fine later on. Some might call this a lack in judgement, that my risky behavior shows that I shouldn’t be making those kinds of decisions until I’m at least 30 3/4. But they’re just haters.
Since turning 30 1/2 I’ve learned a lot of things. For example that I have 6 unmatching gloves in my underwear drawer. Also that our friends’ water dispenser in their fridge no longer works. Also that I like Kit-Kats better than Twix. These are all things I didn’t know at the tender age of 30.
The frustrating thing is that one of my besties will always, no matter how many half-birthdays I have, be one day older than me. That one day gives her such an edge. She’s had one whole extra day on earth to grow, mature, and accomplish things. I would be so much further ahead in life if I had just been born one day earlier.
But at least I’ve got another 1/2 of a year under my belt. And hopefully by the time I’m 31 1/2 I’ll be able to report on how much more I’ve learned.