Photo by Flickr user ragnar1984

I turned six on March 6, 1986. I was fascinated with how often the number six was involved with my birthday that year, probably because I had recently figured out numbers and patterns.

Here in Maryland, we often have our first spring-like days around my birthday, and in 1986 it was warm enough to have my birthday party outside.

It was a Smurfs-themed birthday party. There were Smurfs plates, Smurfs cups, and a plastic Smurfs tablecloth with a waxy texture that, for some reason, I can still remember clearly.

There was a gang of six-year-olds running around the backyard. We played Pin the Tail on the Donkey outside under the warm March sunlight, the game hung on an outside wall. My parents had decorated the backyard patio with streamers and balloons, some even in the nearby trees, which to my six-year-old eyes seemed outrageous and exciting. That might have also been the year we set up plastic bowling pins and converted a hallway into a bowling lane, but that game might be from another childhood birthday that I'm blending into this one.

Though it was Smurfs-themed party, with almost all decorations and accessories following a Smurfy blue color scheme, I was adamant that I have a green birthday cake. I think my mom tried to talk me out of it, but I was resolute. (Again, I might be plucking that detail from another birthday, but I'm pretty sure it's right.)

24 (!) years later, we're experiencing a mix of rain and snow mix today. But right on schedule, the temperatures are expected rise into the 50s with sunny skies on my birthday this Saturday. I'm not sure why the first signs of spring seem to usually coincide with my birthday (or, let's be honest, everybody's early-March birthday in Maryland), but I'll take it. It seems like a good way to kick off a new year and decade.

I'm not sure what made me think about my sixth birthday, but it was definitely one of my favorites. I think it set the tone for what I expected out of all subsequent birthdays. While I won't be playing Pin the Tail on the Donkey this weekend (mostly because I couldn't figure out how to fit that into my plans without seeming like a big weirdo), I'm excited about warmer weather and a weekend spent with friends and family.

Here I go! In five days, I turn 30. Sure, it's just an arbitrary number, but we only get a few birthdays that turn over both numbers on the odometer, and that seems like reason enough to celebrate. Allow me to get schmaltzy for a post.

I'm really looking forward to my thirties. Part of me has the optimistic idea that we spend our twenties figuring things out, making mistakes, and learning what we want out of our lives. Then, in our thirties, we take everything that we've learned and apply it and build the lives we want. Maybe we can afford to put it together a little better. Maybe we're more focused. Or maybe this is a completely romantic view that has little chance of matching up with real life.

Of course it's a romantic view. Life rarely works out the way we expect, and of course there will still be a billion things to figure out. But, much in the same way I have a really good feeling about 2010 so far, I think the next ten years are going to be a decade of adventure. I want to travel more. I want to write more. I'm not sure my 20-year-old self would believe that I'd be in grad school for writing. I can't even remember what my expectations were ten years ago, or if I had any. Right now, I have no idea where I'll be in ten more years. Will I spend my thirties working a series of jobs I don't necessarily care for just to support my writing and digital media interests? How much will I have achieved? Will my goals have completely shifted?

It's I guess there's only one way to find out. From where I sit now, it seems like a world of possibilities.