Happy Birthday to Frank


Frank turned thirty this week. Yes, it was a big deal. We had a big old party, we went out to dinner on Monday (the actual day) and I bought him (and let’s be honest here, myself) a Wii. So it’s been an exciting week.

Sunday and Monday were pretty much devoted to freaking out and worrying about the ramifications of leaving one’s twenties behind, Tuesday through Friday to cooking, and last night to eating and drinking. Frank is currently lying in bed in a hung-over stupor. You know, thirty-somethings can’t recover from a late night like us twenty-somethings. Yes, that joke has seen a lot of action this week and no, it’s not getting old. At least to me. Unlike some people I know. Zing!

Anyway, so it’s weird that Frank is older. It’s only by two and a half years, but it’s enough that I feel some distance from where he is, age-wise. I get to watch him go through all the big landmarks before I have to do it.

I can’t say that I’m not watching what he goes through with an eye toward myself and what I’m going to have to deal with. You know? Not that it really means anything. Or maybe it does. People kept telling Frank that it was no big deal, that being thirty didn’t change anything, but it does sort of. It’s a new phase.

It’s definitely an excuse to dork out and cook a bunch of food for my friends. The party was sort of loose tapas-style dinner. We had tortilla espagnola, sliders, meatballs, empanadas, a bunch of cheese and snacks, and, the piece de resistance, a giant cake. Frank and I don’t have cable, but we magically get Food Network, so we watch a lot of that, and lately we’ve both been obsessed with that show “Ace of Cakes.”

It’s the funniest show because it’s just a bunch of sweet, nerdy people working at a bakery. That’s it! Since it’s a reality show, they’re always trying to make it look like it has conflict and drama, but it never does. All the people on it are too nice. They just make neat cakes and get excited about making neat cakes. So anyway, Frank got it in to his mind that he wanted a fondant-covered layer cake. It didn’t turn out exactly right, but we made it using a wedding cake recipe. It was two tiers of three layers each, covered in fondant and icing dots, topped with an R2D2 toy. It was pretty awesome.

So now Frank is thirty, I got to make a cool cake, we have a Wii, and things can get back to normal. A slightly older normal. And one with Wii tennis. But thirty isn’t really such a huge thing. He doesn’t have to stop going out or get a job at a bank or start having kids or anything. Right? Or no? Nobody really seems to know. I guess I’ll have to wait until I get there to find out.