30 and fab...or so i wish

well yeah, here i am 30 years old. at the back of my mind, that cynical devil side of me keeps on hissing "look at you, 30, and look at you ... what and who are you?" not that i pay attention to her all the time ... though i gotta admit she's one pesky and insistent little brat. i mean, who am i kidding right? i'm 30 years old and none of the things i planned for myself when i was, say 16, ever really happened. not that i'm blaming myself or anyone for that matter... well okay i blame myself, but just a little. ever since i was young, big dreams formed just a teensy weensy part of me. the rest was rested firmly on the real world, and i was just one happy camper, carefree, one of the so-called happy-go-lucky kids who takes bad luck in stride and everything else like a walk in the park. then when i grew older, specifically during my college days, i grew more cynical and jaded and full of existential angst i thought the world owed me something. but still, even at those times i've always thought it will all pass, that when i get older, i'll be calmer and all my angst will be washed away by the kindness of time and the natural river of life -- all stones eventually get eroded away into nonexistence. but here i am 30, and i still snack on angst and bitter melancholic songs on moonless nights when there is nothing to chew on but my fingertips. don't get me wrong though. i'm generally "happy" ... great boyfriend, our own business at this age ... parents who love me more now, well because they don't see me everyday. (now i know, cliche as it seems, absence does make the heart grow fonder.) a sister who'd do anything for me (another case of absence makes ... you know the rest)... sometimes i guess i wonder, as we all do i bet, how time flew so fast?