WordPress creator Matt Mullenweg recently wrote of turning twenty-seven on the eleventh of January. Twenty-seven and the creator of software that has literally changed the world. Must be a good birthday.
Two days later, it’s my turn. Twenty-seven. Plus eleven.
Twenty-seven seems so very distant. It was 2000, and I lived in Boston. I was about to give up on my minimal religious studies work at Boston University and had just begun working for a start-up. My return to Poland was still a year off, and I was in a self-imposed limbo.
Eleven years later, I’m back in the classroom, and still spending too much time on the computer. Yet I’m infinitely more content, and how could I not be? I’m married, and we have a beautiful daughter.
As I approach forty, I find myself smiling at Mullenweg’s comment about twenty-seven:
27 is a really awkward age – I’m not young anymore but still before the looming 30. It’s inbetween.
Thirty looms for him; forty for me. So many I should give both of us some advice: starting a new decade is easier if you do it in style. I suggest a glance at my own thirtieth birthday.
My closest friends were there.
I’d hired a DJ (who was also a student) to play music I’d supplied (it was, after all, my birthday), so the party itself was a blast.
Great friends; great music; great time.
Turning thirty was a snap. I anticipate the same thing in two years. And if I’m lucky, I’ll get a few “Lordy! Lordy! Look who’s forty!” birthday cards.
For now, as a warm up to forty, there’s bigos for dinner:
Cheese cake for dessert:
And a wildly active — which means a wildly healthy — daughter.
And then there’s this to look forward to: