29 and Counting...

I have twenty-seven more days left as a twenty-nine year old. The reality of thirty is right around the corner, but the current pressure of figuring out bills and paying for law school is keeping me rather distracted. I'm not sure that I would care much about turning thirty even if my attention were not diverted. I have accepted aging as being a redundant part of everyday life. Really, the only good thing about keeping track of ones age is that it is away to measure achievement. Certain ages are like benchmarks. When a girl reaches twelve, she looks forward to getting her period. This is when she will consider herself a woman. She'll stand in the mirror for hours at a time, critiquing her hair, the size of her breasts, the roundness of her stomach. And, at that time, thirty is a million years away.

The next benchmark is the ripe old age of sixteen, the age to obtain ones driver's license and gain access to the roads of freedom. Passing the test is only the first step; the important step is getting a car. Some women never own a car. Some women never even learn how to drive. And, I know that even if I shouldn't, I feel like I somehow surpassed those women in life when I successfully met and accomplished those goals.

After sixteen, it's the countdown to eighteen, the age of majority in most states across the U.S.. I couldn't wait to turn eighteen because I had the naive notion that that was when I would be an adult. Little did I realize that I had years of growing up to do before I would really mature into a grown woman. Nevertheless, I dreamed of reaching eighteen and being able to make my own decisions, move out on my own, and go after my dreams and aspirations. I used to imagine that by eighteen I would have sold my first screenplay. I still haven't.

Twenty-one, now that is the age that begins the beginning of the end, yet so many of us couldn't wait to see that birthday. The world of the underground opens up at the age of twenty-one. There is no more worrying about being carded, no more fake I.D.s, no more benchmarks that you're excited to reach. I think we would all stay twenty-one if we could.

After twenty-one the benchmarks become a little less glamorous, and instead of looking forwarding to doing things, people become obsessed with the things that they haven't done. For example, if you're not married or at least in a serious relationship by the age of thirty, people begin to wonder what's wrong with you, and you begin to wonder the same. This day in age it is highly possible to be divorced with two kids by the age of thirty. If you don't have a family by thirty, then you hope that you can at least say that you have a career. Not having a family nor a career by thirty, puts you in the potential loser category; or, maybe you just haven't grown up yet. If you're still living at home and haven't moved out of your parents' house by thirty, you're really pathetic. And, if for some reason you're thirty and unemployed, well... you better at least be disabled.

When I was sixteen, I owned my own car, and I had a full-time job. I worked forty hours a week at Target. When I was seventeen, I entered my first year of college and had an apartment with a friend. By the time I was twenty-five, I had a masters degree. At twenty-six I purchased my first home. And, at twenty-seven I started law school. It is safe to say that I feel that I've done a good job at meeting my benchmarks. And if thirty is the age to have a complete meltdown, I just might make that one as well.

The truth is that I think that I've done pretty well for myself so far, and I am approaching thirty with a healthy confidence in my ability to keep up with my peers in the 25-30 age group. The problem is that I'm also on the brink of losing all that I've worked so hard to gain. If benchmarks were a belt on my waist, I'd be dropping pounds fast and losing notches. Like many Americans, I am facing the possibility of losing my house. The payments skyrocketed when the ARM went into effect, and my teacher's salary has only increased by one-hundred and twenty dollars in the last two years. I retained an attorney to help me try to persuade my lenders to modify my loan, but the lenders are being difficult to say the least.

On top of the house being near foreclosure, I am struggling to maintain a revolving payday loan. It is my own fault for wanting to travel to Europe over the summer. I've been paying the price ever since. Keeping up with the payday loan payments, utility bills, a cell phone bill, cable bill, car payment, insurance, and mortgage- well, I'm not keeping up, and that's the problem. To add icing on the cake, I have to figure out how to pay for law school.

As frightening as aging might be for some women, at this point I have bigger demons to contend with. Turning thirty is the least of my worries.