Hi My Name is Nanci and I Recently Turned...30

I would like to apologize to all of those who believe that 30 is the new 20, that life can only really be appreciated after 30 and that 30 is not even in the vicinity of old, for what I am about to say.

30 is 30, will always be 30, and is absolutely, unmovingly 10 years far away from 20. I appreciated life just fine when I was 29, and every time I am forced to pronounce my age I visibly shudder because, let's face it, 30 is old.

Now that you know my stance on that, you have a decision to make.

Dare you keep reading?

I offer this warning to aid in your decision: you may very well encounter similar life stances, arbitrary theories, unyielding opinions and admittedly dumb comments should you choose to visit the world I inhabit. However, you may also find a refuge of empathy, humor, completely useless knowledge and random escape from your reality.

My reality goes a little bit like this:

I already gave you my age, and I flat out refuse to give it ever again.

I live in Coconut Creek, Florida, with my husband Tim, our 2 cats Hades and Azrael, my hedgehog Styx and Tim's ball python Hydra.

I grew up in East Fishkill, NY (upstate to everyone south of Westchester) and my entire immediate family and my oldest and dearest friend Liz are still there. Since I also spent time living in Boston, Pittsburgh, and Buffalo, I learned to despise the cold. Florida will work for me for quite a while, thanks. Luckily Tim feels the same way. He grew up on Long Island which leads him to belive he is cooler than me. (Among many other reasons) He loves to snowboard but shares my distaste for the cold, gray weather of northern winters. He has recently discovered skim boarding, which in my opinion is snowboarding on sand, so he's all good.

My husband is my best friend in the entire world, and there is nothing I would rather do than spend time with him. Since it would be unhealthy (and the married version of SWF) to do that all the time, I have plenty of other things to amuse myself.

I love to read, and I love to sleep. I spend a lot of time and attention on what will allegedly one day be my first novel. I make the valiant attempt to work out several times a week, since I have an unnatural anxiety regarding gaining weight. I have a deep affection for hanging out with my pets, I don't think I could get through a day without talking to Liz at least once, and in the free time I have left I run a freelance business catering to the random whims of Realtors. My temporary passion is perusing and organizing my wedding pictures, but I have a feeling their novelty will wear of just as soon as the novelty of being married does.

I go to work every day, although believe me this is not by choice. Until I work out how to colonize my own island, rule my own planet, or profit from writing or sleeping, I will continue to work full time as a Project Manager for a fairly large marketing company. It's the closest thing to the perfect job I am ever going to get. It's all about organization, planning, and problem solving. What could be better for a Type A, hyper-organized, slightly OCD newlywed? (It's a little bit quirky that I am by turns also extremely lazy. Plague of the Gemini, I suppose.)
I finally quit smoking after 11 years, but I can't seem to kick my addiction to Starbucks. Or Target, for that matter. Willpower is fickle.

That's the nutshell version. You'll get to know me a lot better if you (and I) keep up with The Pickle Tree. To tide you over until I post again (because I know you are salivating with anticipation) here's a weird fact about me: Every time I walk up or down a foreign flight of stairs I count them. Bizarre. If you feel like commenting, you could also provide a weird fact about yourself. Just a suggestion.

Tune in next time for "The History of the Pickle Tree"