I turned thirty on Saturday, and had a lovely time of it.
Erin and I had breakfast in Harvard Square, then met up with Bryan and Becki for lunch at the newly-renovated Champions in the Back Bay (with Allagash’s Tripel on tap, yum). After lunch, the four of us headed over to Bukowski’s, where Casey and Rachael joined us for more tasty beer.
From Bukowski’s, Erin and I walked over to Fenway and caught a wonderful game from great seats (thanks, Brian) with by my sister and her boyfriend. Seriously, it’s hard to beat a 14–1 Red Sox victory on your birthday:
After the game we reassembled the crew for BBQ at Redbones, and then topped off the night with pints at The Burren.
I think I was dreading this birthday a bit more than previous ones. PBF’s “Today’s My Birthday” comes to mind. On that somewhat morbid note, Kari said something the other day that resonated with me:
The older I get, the more I believe that the inability to accept and confront death really screws your life up. I believe that thinking “I could die tomorrow – so what should I do today?” is a quick and dirty way to make sure you’re on track in life.
As an atheist and transhumanist, I think death sucks. And while it may not be imminent or (arguably inevitable) for someone my age, it’s probably best to expect it to be. At least, that’s what keeps me working on my business, appreciating my relationships, and being the person I want to be. I rather not play the odds with this one. If I live to 110 and made the best of my life even when it was hard to do so, then that’s a great outcome! If I die tomorrow, at least I tried not to waste what I had.
So, carpe diem quam minimum credula postero, folks.