Stuck in Winter

Usually I love March.  I flip the calendar over from February and rejoice in the fact that it's March 1st.  It seems like a reward for making it through a long, cold winter.  March is the first month of spring; St. Patrick's Day rolls around, Easter festivities are underway.  In short, there's a lot more to look forward to than in January and February.  However, this March has been pretty ludicrous so far.  I should preface this by saying that last March was unseasonably warm.  Crazily warm, even.  My seasonal allergies flared up and I started experiencing asthmatic symptoms.  Because it was so warm in March of 2012 and my breathing was so bad, I ended up being diagnosed with asthma in April.  Needless to say, I don't think there's a chance in hell of me needing to worry about taking a Claritin this March.  As I write, big, fat snowflakes are falling down outside.  If this was three months ago, it would be awesome.  I'd be playing Christmas music, baking and enjoying the soft twinkling of Christmas lights.  Let's make a long story short: there is absolutely nothing festive and quaint about this snow nonsense right now.

That being said, the promise of March is difficult to shake.  I decided that Monday was my last day of wearing boots.  I've been wearing 4 different pairs of boots in a rotation since October.  It's the equivalent of looking at a big chunky sweater in March; basically the most depressing thing on earth to see.  Funnily enough, several teachers at work seemed to make the same choice:  we're all wearing flats with bare feet and talking about how, even though we're freezing, it's just too sad to slide boots over our calves right now.  A round of dramatic haircuts are also taking place:  everyone at work seems to agree that March is the time to get hair chopped and ready for spring.  In fact, I made a haircut appointment for March 16th way back in January.  I can't wait to get it cut.  It's too long for my taste and flat-ironing the hot mess of my thick hair has become, well, a hot mess.  It will be nice to debut a shorter cut next weekend!

Even though it's cold and snowy, we've been trying to get out of the hibernation pattern of January and February.  Last weekend, I experienced a "Grown Up Moment":  a moment where I realize that, despite the fact that it feels like I just graduated high school a couple of years ago, I am really and truly an adult.  I've had these moments several times since turning thirty, but the irony is that I love these moments and realizations.  My best grade school friend turned 30 about 7 months before I did, and on my 30th birthday, she told me how much I'd absolutely love my 30s and how much better they are than the 20s.  Realistically, I know there isn't much difference between 29 and 30.  But between 21 and 31?  So much difference.  I love, love, love my 30s so far.  I feel so much more settled, so much more comfortable in my skin.  Things that rattled me in my 20s don't even cause an ounce of anxiety now; whereas in other respects, now I'm worrying about what truly matters.

Anyway, my "Grown Up Moment" happened on Saturday.  We made a date with several couples from Mr. My Blog for Bonnie's former place of employment.  Four couples dined downtown at a gorgeous little restaurant where a dress code is in place and reservations a necessity.  We sat down together at a big table, ordered several bottles of wine, drank and toasted each other and ordered several courses for the meal.  It struck me as we were eating that this was an absolutely grown-up thing to be doing.  If we were in our early 20s, the only reason we would've been at that type of restaurant would be if we were getting engaged or celebrating a similarly giant milestone.  If we were in our mid 20s, we would have only been there after careful planning and saving to pay for an anniversary or birthday meal.  But here we were in our early 30s, just eating there for a regular dinner with friends.  It really drove home the fact that, despite how it feels, we've indeed been out of college for almost 10 years and have 10 years of working and job stability behind us.  It was the type of place my parents would go to to meet their friends for dinner when I was a kid, and leave my siblings and I with a babysitter for the night.  My parents would dress up and have a glass of wine before going, then come home late looking thrilled and happy after a night of laughing with their friends.  Fast forward 20 years, and here I was drinking a glass of wine and reading before leaving for the restaurant, then having the exact type of experience with our own group of friends.  It's nuts.  Time truly flies.  That being said, I am loving being a "grown up."

Here's hoping that I can report in the next post that March has warmed up and spring has truly sprung.  Until then, I'm believing in the power of haircuts and colorful flats to imbibe the spirit of spring!