So my birthday is July 26, 1989.  That means I’ve been 30 years old for three months, this week.  So forgive the belatedness of this post; that’s just how I roll apparently 😜.

My actual birthday didn’t go exactly as planned.  I had shyly asked my friends if they’d mind having a photoshoot for me, after Justin and I went to a sushi buffet.  They were really sweet and willing… and then on the actual day things kept coming up, including a need to go to the DMV and taking care of my skin.  So Justin and I ended up celebrating my birthday with late night overpriced sushi, right before the restaurant closed, and a walk in Downtown Chattanooga.  It was nice, but I was super disappointed.  Tears were shed, which I felt super stupid for.

But I realized that so often I feel like I need a special occasion to let myself be special.  So I felt like if my birthday had passed and gone, I’d lost my opportunity.  And that’s not cool.  Why as adults do we feel the need to reserve being special for when people and events give us permission??  That’s lame.

So instead, I waited until it was pretty outside, instead of 90+ Fahrenheit, like it was at the end of July, and asked my friends to take several hours out of a random Thursday, taking photos of me like the frickn’ covergirl I am 😉.  And they were awesome and did it and made me feel incredible. And I had nearly 2000 photos to go through, which is absolutely bonkers.

But I’ve never felt as pretty in photos as I felt in these ones, and that’s a really special feeling.  I’m a total goober, and they helped me feel like that’s cool and pretty and worth looking at 😊.

At the beginning of my actual birthday, 4am to be exact, I wrote up my feelings on turning 30, Four Sides of Calise style (if you’re not familiar, you might want to check out that intro so you know why four different parts of my mind are talking to myself).  Usually I’d make stick figure comics to go with it, but that takes forever, especially with this much dialogue.

Besides, now I have a photoshoot commemorating being 30-and-3-months old, to illustrate this post instead.  And I’ll caption each picture with which side is predominantly showing, because that’s fun, and I like pinpointing it in myself, and why not? Continue reading