Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Madame Sunday is a growed up.

So the Madame is on vacation this week.  Not a real one that involves sand and mixed drinks… well, there ARE mixed drinks on this one actually.  I’m spending a nice week at home because I’m turning 30 today!  Double squueeeee!  Normal people like to mark special occasions like this by doing exciting things like climbing a mountain or catching STDs in Mexico but Madames don’t climb mountain and if I’m going to have to take antibiotics after visiting a foreign country it better be some place a lot awesomer than a two-story Senor Frog’s in Cancun.   Also I’m buying myself a new kitchen for my birthday and that’s really the gift that keeps on giving without aching thighs, alcohol poisoning or intestinal parasites.

I'm only wearing a birfday hat because there's cake hiding underneath it.
I’m actually pretty excited about my *cringe* staycation – it’s cheap, I get to be lazy and mediocrity will no doubt ensue.  All of my favorite things!  Triple squee!!  I’m going to eat cake for breakfast, mashed potatoes for lunch and bacon for dinner.  Ahahahahaha just kidding!  I’m drinking my dinner. 

I have no plans other than sleeping late and shopping for shoes and backsplash tile.   I’ll spend my nights out enjoying the “nightlife” of Chattavegas, watching Talladega Nights for the thousandth time and waiting to see if Margaret Cho slips in a pussy joke on Dancing with the Stars.  Welcome to the rest of my life.  I like to live on the edge.  This all may seem quite lame but the good thing about growing up is that you don’t really give a shit anymore about what other people think.   Yippee!!  All the anxiety and worrying that happened at 29 22 are slowly loosening their vice grip on my life...  like my completely irrational fear of using the drive-up tellers at the bank because I can't handle the pressure of putting the correct information in that damn tube with a bunch of cars behind me while I fumble with that one red button and ancient technology that I know I will mess up thereby dropping the tube and with it my money, drivers license, high school transcripts, 5th grade class picture, passport, latest health report and 15 yogurt lids will go rolling into traffic only to be crushed by speeding cars while I have to watch in horror while people behind me honk and curse my very existence.  OR the imaginary underground pneumatic tube monster will somehow steal my deposit en route and then I’ll blame the teller for stealing my money and SAT scores and she’ll point her fake nail at me through that window, squint her Tammy Faye eyes and yell through the microphone that I messed up and to get the hell out of the lane because I’m blocking traffic and I’ll be forced to wait for her in the parking lot until the bank closes and throw down because nobody, I repeat NOBODY, makes a fool of me and steals my cereal box tops without expecting me to come at them like a spider monkey all while that damn underground tube monster giggles in delight at the mayhem he’s created and I don’t like to give him the satisfaction so I DON’T use the drive-thru tellers period.  That goes for pharmacies too.  Fuckers.

But now that I’m 30 all my fears have been wrestled to the ground like demon cobras.  That or I just don’t give a shit anymore about causing a traffic jam at the drive-thru lane (see above above not giving a shit).  I didn’t have a list of cute fun things to accomplish by this date because I would have procrastinated anyway and then I’d be forced to travel to 30 different states within a few days and I’m not fucking Santa Claus and then I’d just feel really shitty about all the things I DIDN’T accomplish rather than how many things I HAVE done.   And I’ve been lucky to have done a lot - I've traveled all over the world, met some amazing people in fabulosity, bought a home and finally figured out that I really should never EVER wear yellow.  Big things.  But, I would have preferred if I had some decent furniture by now.  And knew how to shoot a gun.  And figured out how to fix my hair.  Meh...  I've got time.  

But bigger than any bucket list of my youth, I get to say goodbye to my 20s.  Fare thee well old friend.  We had some good times.  We also had a lot of bad times.  I'll miss your playful abandon but I won't miss all the drama and crippling neuroses (see above) that came with it.   20s are for figuring out who you are so you can actually be that person in your 30s.  If somebody comments that they figured out who they were by like 24 I swear to gawd I'll scissor kick you in the back of the head.  But it's totally fine to tell me I won't know anything until I'm 40.  That kind of condescending attitude is exactly how I talk to people who are 19.  It's the circle of life.

Think I'm gonna put on my favorite Crystal Gayle tshirt, go deposit my grandmother’s $10 birfday check using the drive-thru teller and then go eat some more cake.  

I gonna make this decade my bitch.


  1. I agree, the 30's have been the best part of my life. Sniff, they're almost over for me (I'm 38, so I can't quite tell you that you don't know anything). Hoo wow, it was almost like reading my manifesto. Except for the Crystal Gayle tshirt and Talledega Nights wasn't even a dream.
    Welcome to your best decade yet and substitute your mashed potatoes with bacon. Or better yet, combine them!

  2. Thanks Mike! Looking forward to that 3 in front of my age. ; ) I actually have some special time dedicated this week to some bacon/chocolate magic. Or bacon/chocolate tragedy. I'm not sure which it is yet...

  3. Happy Birthday my friend! And i hope the 6 am post was because you were still up and not because in your old age you can no longer sleep past dawn. Don't ditch the taters, add some stovetop as a farewell to your 20s.

  4. Fuck no - I was in bed my midnite and scheduled that post for 6 AM. I'm smart now that I'm a growed up. ; ) I'll toast a bowl of Stovetop to you. Hugs and tootsie rools!

  5. Happy birthday lady. Turning 30 made me feel like I was a real grown up. Finally. It just keeps getting better after this, trust me.

  6. Thanks Paul - I'm most definitely looking forward to this decade. ; )

  7. Be warned though, I was 31 when I hung up my drinking shoes for good...

  8. Happy Bougie Birthday Madame! If anyone knows how to party wayyy down - I mean, so awesomely down you don't even have to leave your house and change your jammies (Forting Splendoralls) - well, then, it must be you. I am sending virtual quesoburgers and bacon martinis by wish-horse to the MS ranch (that is NOT a stalker snuffling in the shrubs outside the window - it's my faithful pretend delivery pony) Give him/her a rubdown and send it on its way - please sign its withers!
    Enjoy your day - 30 is the new XXX.

  9. Hey, Happy Birthday Madame!! 30 was great, and your 30's will be great too. I will have beer in your honor later, and it won't be some cheap domestic crap either. It will be a sophisticated imported brew with monks on the label or something, because us grown-ups know the difference between good beer and the horse piss everyone drinks in their 20's! Cheers dear!

  10. Paul - NO! I feel it is getting slower but I'll always be a bit partial to the wine. For my heart health and all. Looks like I'll have to develop social skills that don't require being buzzed. ; )

    Rich - I knew that heavy breathing outside my window sounded different than normal... Is your imaginary wish-pony like a unicorn but more yankee?! That would be fuckawesome!!! Looking forward to the graphic filth of my 30s fo sho. Done with the soft-core bullshit of my 20s. Bring it on, Life!!

    Tammy - I live my life to inspire other people to get drunk. I feel like I've truly accomplished something now! Thanks and I'll be toasting to you and all my tweeps tonight too!! squeee!!

  11. 30 sucked but for 40 I got a new table saw. A Powermatic 66 (which means nothing to most of you). Now 50 is starting to loom large in the windshield. Way too large. I need to go lay down.

    Happy Birthday Madame. Enjoy it.

  12. David - do they make a Powermatic 67 that you could get for your 50th?! Maybe that'll lessen the blow.

    Thank you! ; )

  13. madame. (I guess I'll follow the crowd) Happy Birthday! and welcome. a little sad we'll only share the same (numeric) space for about 2 months -- but . . . got your back and Tear it up sista! enjoy madamefest '10.

    ps -- the madamemail feed (aka the wakeup call of fabulousity) failed me this morning (didn't get it) or I'd have commented earlier. like the hat.

  14. Happy birthday! I only increased my (solo) wine intake in my 30s, and I encourage you to do the same. You are one fabulous spider monkey.

  15. jb - I tore this city up today!! Well I tore up that sandwich shop at lunch and then I tore up the tile store after that. Then Target... they didn't know what happened!! Maybe my post schedule conflicted with the madamemail - I will check. Thanks for Bday wishes!

    Kim - Thanks grrl. Rock it don't stop it. (Can I still be a fabulous spider monkey if I say things like that?! I'm old so I don't know what the cool kids say anymore.)

  16. Your personal accomplishments by age 30 have spurred me to make a list of Things-to-boast-about-to-my-sure-to-be-lameass-children-who-will-still-be-living-in-my-basement-when-they're-officially-creepy-for-still-playing-video-games to be accomplished by age 25. Unforutunately, that leaves me roughly 4 years to cross everything out on said list. I better make it a very short list. Item #1?
    Parallel park. Successfully.

    And, oh, yes, Joie d'anniversaire!
    (It's so much more fabulous in French, non?)

  17. OMG, now I can't wait to turn 30. All over again! Regarding that pneumatic tube - did you ever see that post by Bob Borson where the outdoor pool cabana guest house had a giant pneumatic tube as a staircase? Imagine the sucking sound!
    Please oh please send this post to Funny Not Slutty. The whole world (her 30 readers) need to read this fabulous crap about turning 30. It's a magic number. Like your waist size a few years into your 30s!
    I sent 30 hugs your way. Sadly, Richard stole them with his porno pony or whatever it was outside your door.

  18. Actually, Franco figured out who he was at 23. Whatchuthinkaboutdat, Saucy? :P

  19. Cham - Everything is better in French: Fromage! See?! (that's the only thing I know...) Good luck with your parallel parking! That one is a real bitch but it comes in handy for dropping your adult-basement-kids off at the mall...

    Alexandra - I'm pretty sure you've got at LEAST 7 more years before 30 so I'll be well experienced by then in adulthood and can hold your hand. But not in a lesbian porno pony kind of way, just in a friendly helpful Madame way...

    Franco - prepared to be scissor kicked in the back of the head...