In less than a month I’m turning 30. Somehow it seems like such a big number. A big enough number that it renders inner emotional earthquakes to anyone who reaches it, whether they’d like to admit it or not. I remember last year when my friend, Ms. “Ghost You Know” [P, you know what's weird? The song just came on my iPod! Freaky freaky freaky ol' pal], was short of freaking out about her 30th, I was trying to put myself in her shoes. I wanted to know how I would react to my own 3th. I’ll be fine, I said. I’ll be fine!

Hello World? Hello Age? Hear hear. I. Am. Breeding. Crazies. In. My. Head.

What is it about turning a new decade that is so monumental? For me, it seems that I’m faced with my Self who asks — “What have you done the past 10 years?”

10 years. I’ve lived several lifetimes. There was Me-20, Me-21, Me-22…and so on. Telling you that it’s been a CRAZY ride won’t even cut it.

I’m not the type who lives along the known path. Inside the lines. Normal. If I had to graph my life experiences, it’s whacked. Up up up. Down down down. Never just coasting smoothly. Always interesting, I would say. I’ve made huge mistakes and I’ve learned from them grandly. I wouldn’t be who I am now without those cuts, bruises, stitches and scars. Here I stand before you know, whole. Confident. Complete. Sure. Ready to face more of what life has to offer.

Twenties. Oh twenties. How much of the world you taught me. How much of a hard life you taught me. But I turned out fine. Just fine. One of the the most important things learned from all of those 10 years is to Have Faith. Stand up and keep plodding on. The light? It’s always there. You just have to believe enough to see it. Believe in yourself that you will survive and thrive.

Life isn’t perfect. Just live and learn. And enjoy.

My mother has always taught me to be considerate. Each time I try to be so considerate, I end up hating the outcome because after all that I get trampled on. The truth is, people are essentially just out for themselves.

So. No more Ms. Nice Girl. I’ll do as I please and if something goes wrong, it’s not because of everybody’s collaborative inconsiderate effort. Only mine. And that, I can live with.

The Minimum Wage episode opened me to another kind of reality. Here’s the awful truth: I don’t even know what the minimum wage is. It’s one of those things that I try not to think about and so I remain oblivious to. In this episode, Morgan and his girlfriend lived on $5.15/hr jobs for a month. That is somebody else’s morning coffee. They had an argument about buying snacks and pop before a one-dollar movie. She hasn’t bought anything for herself in weeks. She walks to work. When they went out on a date for her birthday, there weren’t any buses past 6pm so they had to take a cab and he ended up spending $20 more than he wanted to that day. When I think of $20, it’s not a huge amount, but when you put in that perspective, that’s the difference between having food to eat for the next week and making magic to survive with what you have.

When we were out at the mall yesterday, it really made me think about what I saw around me. It’s no secret that Scottsdale is where rich people retire, shop, vacation, golf, spa…well, basically, it’s a cash-out city. I got a couple of lip balms from Aveda that cost around $9 each. That’s almost 2 hours of work someone. Some people were carrying paper bags from Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Boss, etc…probably with stuff cost more than what someone else need to earn for 2 months.

One of the scenes in the episode showed them getting groceries. It was Easter, I think, and they were having over a niece and nephew. Morgan (yeah, we’re on first-name basis) wanted to buy treats for them, and his girlfriend insisted that he can only pick two and that’s all they can afford.

I felt so bad when we were at Whole Foods yesterday and a bag of food was $50 and this is already ‘economizing’ our food shopping, plus we have forgotten a few things we needed. And I felt proud that we’re not wasting food as much when we shop there because a) it’s more expensive indeed, especially when it comes to meat and seafood); and b) we get the right amount of food to eat for ourselves. Anyway, still…it came to mind that we are doing this not out of utmost necessity, but as a choice. But what if we don’t have a choice??? And we have to count each penny that we spend to make ends meet? We are lucky and we’re so grateful. However, other people should have the same choices as we have, and be able to enjoy life as we do. It’s sad to think about the disparity.

One of the last things shown in the same episode is the medical bill of more than $500 that he incurred for an arm injury. They showed the couple’s balance as negative $800-something if I remember it right. It is scary to live under that circumstance and it made me think twice about spending.

So yesterday, I just came home with two lip balms instead of bagfuls of things that I won’t end up using anyway. That’s what I call real-life impact.

When one of my best pals was turning 30 last year, she had all these craziness about her (hey P! haha) and for months prior her 30th, she was talking about turning 30, turning 30, turning 30. I didn’t get tired of it, I swear. I was amused. I got to thinking about how I will be on my last year in my 20’s.

It’s been a year of big changes, leaps, and risk-taking. Now, I’m still eager to make more.

Is it like that when you turn to a new decade in your life? I didn’t noticed that when I turned 20. The spurt. A compelling feeling of just moving forward. Feeling more alive. A triple dose of chutzpah on the rocks.

I sense days of lunacy coming. Wanting to get a pink tattoo…oh of all things! Did I mention my fear of needles? Travel to Italy and stuff myself silly with all the good food and experience a new place. More businesses. Hey, justing putting it out there for the world. You here me?! I’m coming with a speed of light. Meet me at the bar dear Thirty!