30

This week I turn 30!  Yikes, that seems so old, something that used to feel so far away.  Much like my Quarter Life Crisis at 25, I have not been handling the fast approaching golden birthday very well.  People who knew me in college might be surprised by that because I used to think 30 was the perfect age.  I used to think 30 would be when I would have life all figured out, I would be settled down. I didn’t expect 30 to be sharing my over priced apartment with no closet space with my newly adopted cat.  

I have been looking back on my 20s and have regretted some of the boys and the wild nights. Feeling like I have lost time on all the wrong people. Maybe I should be realizing that they were the right people to get me to where I am. That is what your 20s are for. Making mistakes, falling for the wrong people, realizing what you really want in the right one. Your 20s are for making unbreakable friendships, the friends who become family, the friends who know everything about you. Your 20s are for chasing your dreams and finding the career path that not just pays the bills but makes you happy.

But what are your 30s supposed to be for? What will this next decade (don’t like it) hold? Unlike the disappointing self inflicted expectations of my 20s I am not setting timelines for my life anymore.  I just want to live life as best I can. Travel and see as much as I can. Love the people in my life. Stop worrying about what is missing and focus on what I have.  

Even though 30 does not thrill me I am doing what I do best, and throwing a big party.  Well a two part extravaganza really.  It all kicks off Friday night with a rooftop party overlooking the White House.  There will be champagne and rose, flowers, friends, and Chick-fil-a chicken nuggets!  What more could a girl ask for?  Maybe a fun theme?  Well, I have that covered too!  Party Like a Pineapple!  Pineapples are sweet on the inside, stand tall, and wear a crown, just like me!  Pineapples represent hospitality, are something every home should have, and just happen to be something I collect.  The celebration will roll right into Saturday with a party bus to Virginia wine country with my nearest and dearest.  I will wrap up the weekend with a killer hangover that I will get over just in time to drink more wine while eating pizza and watching Game of Thrones!  It will be a weekend full of all my favorite people and all of my favorite things.  

Although I made some mistakes in my 20s, I can’t imagine my life being any different than it is right now.  I hope the next decade (nope still don’t like it) is full of more adventures with my friends and a time for me to continue to grow.  Also, full of wine … always more wine!

18th Amendment ... the End of an Era

When most people here 18th Amendment they think of Prohibition.  For me 18th Amendment has another meaning.  I think of a bar on Pennsylvania Avenue in SouthEast DC.  A bar that I am sad to say closed its doors this weekend.    

18th Amendment is hallowed ground.  It is where so much of my first years in DC were lived.  For a long time, it was the place where every exciting moment of my life took place.  Every Thursday many Hill staffers made their way to 18th to sing karaoke and drink cheap Miller High Life.  Many of my friendships in this city were made at 18th Amendment over a song, a High Life, or a late night shrimp poboy.  It used to be great, I used to be great when I hung out there.  

The Harper of 18th Amendment was bold, sassy, and empowered.  It was in those walls that I did some of my very best flirting.  I made out with several cute boys there.  I danced even if no one else was because I wanted to.  I sang many terrible songs, with groups of friends, and didn’t care that my voice can make cats cry.  This is where I learned to shoot Jameson like a pro and realized that it was sexy to do so.   

It wasn’t all cocktails and good times.  Life hit me pretty hard a few times while sitting in that bar.  We were at 18th Amendment the night D told me he had a girlfriend.  After shit hit the fan, I sat at the bar and drowned my sorrows with Vicki and Deek.  The night several months later, when D got jealous, and told me he didn’t like seeing me with anyone else, the conversation that ruined our functioning friendship took place at 18th.  When I lost my job, 18th Amendment is where I went to drink away the disappointment.   

I haven’t been by in months; I don’t think any of the old group has.  Somewhere along the way, life happened.  We got more responsibility, and we had to give things up.  People grow apart, and the places you used to go together lose their luster.  I have thought about stopping by a million times, but something always seems to come up.  Never did I think that there would be a day that 18th wouldn’t be there. In my mind, Vicki would always be ready to pour me a shot and tell me that all my problems lie in my poor taste in men.     

I want to pay homage to one of the places that helped shape me and my life in this city.  If the walls of 18th Amendment could talk, I am sure they would have some great stories to tell, and several of them involving me.