Indecision

Well, we're moving toward my final hour of Maddie being at Little One's Day Out today.  I swear it goes by so fast.  I can't decide if I want (really, it's a need) to go grocery shopping or clothes shopping (also a need if I'm going to look like not a jackass this weekend as I celebrate hitting 30).  Meh.  I may just do neither.  I have one more LODO morning...Friday, but I'm trying to schedule a hair cut for that time.  With an eccentric lady.  In a basement.  I got hung up on the first time.  I'm sure it'll be a tremendous hair cut.

I guess my hair doesn't really need to be cut, but my nearly 30 self has realized this: I don't look good with long hair.  So I never wear it down.  I would like to wear it down this weekend and feel good about it.  Yes, this weekend is about feeling empowered.  Or something.  I turn 30 on Sunday.  On Saturday I'm running a half marathon.  You know, a final nod (middle finger?) to my 20s.  However, on my 3-mile run earlier today I wondered what exactly the fuck I'm doing this for.  Why am I not just gonna go booze it up somewhere??  Eh.  I already paid the $55 registration fee, Joe too, so we're doing it.  His mom will be here to watch Maddie, and so after the race on Saturday and brief rest (passing out?), we're going to head to St. Louis.  I am going to eat Pho Grand until I freaking puke.  If it's even still open.  I should google that.  So yeah, I'd like to look good while I pig out. 

Hilariously, since we never do anything fun, I decided last year that I'd grab 30 by the balls and told Joe that I wanted to go to NYC for my birthday.  HAHAHA.  Then he changed jobs, and we spent all our money on a move.  Briefly we thought Chicago would be doable.  Can drive there, no plane tickets.  Well.  We're now doing STL.  Oh well.  My birthdays are...a source of...irritation?...resentment?  (PS.  Lily just called back, and basement hair cut is a go.)  Over the last few years, I have spent a birthday deathly ill in a Georgia hotel with the flu waiting for Joe to be released from training so that we could go back to MO and move our shit to GA.  I've spent it with psych hospital coworkers while Joe was deployed.  I've lost a couple years, last year, and 2011 (six days after Maddie came home from the hospital) where I don't remember what we did.  And one year I had to work late at the psych hospital because I was working with a new idiot doctor who didn't know what he was doing, which caused me to miss my surprise party.  So yeah.  I guess if St. Louis goes well, it will still be better than these past years, though I'll argue that 2011 was just fine because my kid was finally home.  Oh, and finishing the half marathon without stopping will be pretty badass too.  I can't wait for my medal and t-shirt.  I guess it's not just a nod to my 20s but more like passing the baton from 20s to 30s.  And hopefully leaving some demons behind.

Okay, I think I need to make a decision, and I think I'm going to go shop for myself.  Um.  What styles are in?  Shit.  I don't know how to dress myself.