Being 30 (and this is the 100th post on this blog)

At the check-out: “Do you have an ID with you?”

In my head: ”Miss, it has been a long day. I just want to go home as quickly as possible, and enjoy a beer. I promise I’ll drink responsibly. And also, I am 30: way past 25 and definitely not 18”

In reality: ”No, but I don’t need one really” plus a big smile.

She’s let me buy the beer. I did only take one with my tea. I told you, I’d drink responsibly. Later when I sipped through my chilled beer, I started to feel the flattery of being id’d. I can’t help being vain now and then, whether I am 30 or not.

It was my 30th birthday last month. My boyfriend thought we should do something special. He suggested going to Paris. Also, we have lived 3-hours train-journey far from Paris for like 15 months now. It’s about the bloody time we took the ride.

In Paris, we climbed up to the second floor of the Eiffel Tower. It was cold – February European continental cold. Being so high up made the cold much worse. But the view was so impressive that we thought we would climb further to the top next time. A starry summer night, maybe.

We visited the Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Paris. All the stained glass and the chimera statues were just amazing. It was service hour so we could really hear the choir. It was a peaceful hour.

Needless to say we dined and wined till we were totally stuffed and rather tipsy. We had some really good time.

So cheers for Paris. Cheers for being 30. It’s a good rounded number. Some made a big deal out of it. Have you achieved something by the time you turn 30? Are you in a stable relationship? Beautiful kids and big car? Oh, don’t forget the house.

For me, I ate home made cheese cake and took a trip to Paris. Do I feel older? No, not really. Truth to be told, being old or being young is in the heart. It is in the look sometimes, for sure. When you see my dad dresses up for Tết, you’ll know what I mean. Am I rich and famous? Not either. But who cares? I am very  happy being with my bf now. I love my job and I love where I live. Gosh, Amsterdam is just beautiful. I might trade it for Hanoi only. Paris? No way!