Note: I've been a bit slack with the frequency of posts here and I'm going to try to get back on the one a week pace I was at before Christmas. Look out for future entries on organising debate tournaments, the coming of spring and journeys to the countryside.
A few weeks ago I turned 30. It wasn't much of an event. On the day in question, I was sick in bed with a mild case of food poisoning and then Tess and I went out to dinner at Millie's, a diner, where we were joined by Our Dear Friend Will, who just happened to be there too. (ODFW basically lives there when in UB.) Some nice conversation and a few iced teas later, Tess and I went home and watched some TV and fell asleep by the stately hour of 10 o clock.
Perhaps it's this lack of event that's emblematic of the event in question. 10 years ago, I'm not sure what I did when I turned 20 (I lived in residence in 2nd year university) but I'm pretty sure it didn't involve quiet chats about the state of Mongolia, and an episode of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, before turning in at 10. And if it actually did, I'm so overly romanticising my early 20s in my memory that I've blocked out those memories.
We went out for dinner the next night with a bunch of friends at Hazara, a north Indian restaurant that is probably the best restaurant in town. Near the end of the night, ODFW asked whether I had any insights into turning 30, or even just turning 30 in UB. No, not really, I answered, except that I never thought I'd end up celebrating the milestone in Mongolia.
Nobody does, replied ODFW.
