ratsonjulia

I turned thirty last week, which wasn't quite as traumatic as I thought it would be, & I have to admit that I'm sorta looking forward to my thirties (like I have a choice) (well, yes, I guess I do, but let's not go there)

for the most part, I try to keep to a philosophy of learning from my mistakes & regretting nothing (which looks good on paper, but there's always a measure of regret, & mistakes that i have to keep learning from time & time again)--& my twenties were, all told, pretty good. I bounced around the country a bit, met thousands of wonderful people, worked in movies & television, experienced life as being either desperatly poor & homeless or relatively flush, acted in plays, gotten drunk with famous people, slept with truily breathtaking women, read good books, wrote lots & generally did a lot of the things that I read about in my teens.

but there was also a hell of a lot that I could've done differently, or better--or just plain screwed up.

a current project (one that I"ve been contemplating & dreading for a while) is to go back thru the notebooks I kept (stacks & stacks) &---type them up.

question:

looking back ten years, you're not where you thought you'd be, right? where was it & where are you?