Ten minutes later I was wiping slobber from my double chin, shocked at how easy that was. The plan was progressing much faster than I had imagined.
A couple of months after our first kiss, Kevin asked me to come over because he had something to tell me. I grabbed my basketball and greased my lips with Lip Smacker’s Dr Pepper flavor. As I passed the fourth house, my stomach sank. I realized Kevin was going to ask me out, and I was going to have to say no.
It was too early. I knew we had to wait until after college, so both of us could get good at sex. That’s what college is for, right?
When I arrived, he was already shooting hoops. We threw the ball around until I was ready to explain why we had to wait before we became girlfriend-boyfriend.
“So, I have a girlfriend,” Kevin said, interrupting my thoughts.
I was stunned. “That’s so great!” I yelled over my shoulder. “My mom said I need to be home to help with dinner and clean my room. OK, bye!”
Their relationship went strong for the first year, even stronger for the second. I began to lose faith in the plan. Then Kevin’s first girlfriend cheated on him during our senior-year spring break.
As soon as I heard the news, I skipped up his driveway with a basketball under my arm. It wasn’t until I saw how devastated he was that I decided to focus my energy on putting him back together. Before I could even get excited about the possibility of taking her place, college entered the picture, and with it came our largest speed bump: I was moving to Missouri, and Kevin was staying in Illinois.
He came over the morning I was leaving for Missouri; I had promised him he would be the last person I said goodbye to before I left. He cried and I made fun of him, then we sat in my driveway dreading the fact that we wouldn’t live six houses away from each other anymore.
Thanks to the wonders of twenty-first-century technology, we stayed close. But it wasn’t until our junior year that the plan started up again. I was going through my latest breakup when Kevin suggested I come visit him. Approximately five seconds after he suggested it, I hopped into my car and made the seven-hour trek to Chicago.
I remember scanning the disgusting walls of his frat house as I swirled the contents of my red Solo cup. Somewhere between the last drink and his morning alarm, Kevin and I moved into the final phases of my plan: we slept together. For some reason, though, it ended up feeling more like a goodbye than a hello.
The next morning, we gave each other a confused embrace before I walked to my car with what felt like one of the worst hangovers of my life. The cold Chicago air ripped tears from my eyes as I slammed my car door and checked my phone. A text from Kevin: “when do u want 2 talk about this?”
I wasn’t hungover; I was heartbroken. I sat in my car and sobbed.
Later that week, Kevin told me he valued our friendship too much to take the “risk” of dating. I told him I totally agreed. Totally.
Yet I still wasn’t quite ready to abandon the plan.
If I’ve learned anything during the approximately twenty-seven times I’ve watched “When Harry Met Sally,” it’s that you need to ignore your best friend for a month, and in that time he will realize he’s in love with you and will come charging back into your life at the first available opportunity.
So I ignored Kevin’s texts and calls, patiently waiting for him to realize we really were supposed to be together. When I was back home for New Year’s I made sure every status advertised my whereabouts for the night. How else was he going to burst in at midnight to tell me he couldn’t live without me? Spoiler alert: he didn’t.
Subsequently, I decided to move to New York, where twentysomethings who no longer believe in love go to pursue more attainable goals, like being a stand-up comic. One day I awoke to an e-mail from my parents; the basketball hoop in my front yard had been knocked over during a storm and they decided to remove it completely.
I took this as a sign to officially abandon the plan. This time I cut Kevin out of my life completely and began to focus on more important things, like my blossoming waitressing career.
Years later, I was surprised to find myself sitting in a booth across from Kevin in Highland Park. He held my hands as I cried over all the time we’d lost while I was too busy ignoring his apologies and refusing his friendship. I asked if he could forgive me for trying to push him out of my life, and he responded with, “I’m just glad there isn’t a redheaded two-year-old sitting next to you.”
We were going to be OK. With that, I returned to the city where homeless dreamers rub elbows with the dreamers with homes, hopeful that our reunion would repair what had been lost. Slowly we began talking again and keeping track of each other’s lives. Our conversations were different now that I had given up the self-consciousness that plagues girls who have fallen in love.
A couple of months ago I was crashing at my parents’ house before moving out of the country. Kevin came over for a quick goodbye before heading to work. He got out of his car and gave me a hug.
“Why do you have to move so far away from me?” he asked as our chins wrapped around each other’s shoulders. My heart, once again, turned inside out.
I am no longer in love with Kevin, but I love him. Two letters, big difference. I love him when he has girlfriends and when I have boyfriends. I love him when he makes me laugh and when he makes me cry. I love him when he says goodbye and when he says hello. I love him when he knows my thoughts and even when he doesn’t. I know he will always be there no matter how hard I try to get rid of him.
The plan had totally worked. Totally.
NOTES
2. RIDE BIKE ACROSS BROOKLYN BRIDGE
1. At least I’d graduated from beef jerky.
2. If you’re wondering, I did end up having a first kiss on that bridge. It was with a comedian friend named Kyle. He’d moved to Brooklyn and we decided to celebrate with whiskey. I, drunk-girl, demanded that we end the night on the bridge. As soon as we set foot onto the wooden slats, I swung my body into Kyle’s and proceeded to kiss his mouth. Kyle kissed me back and then violently threw up all our celebratory whiskey. We are not married.
3. For those of you not familiar with trendy New York real estate circa mid-2000s, DUMBO (which stands for “Down Under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass”) is a manufacturing district, turned arts district, turned tech district, turned Brooklyn’s most expensive neighborhood. My first post-college job was at 18 Jay Street.
3. BECOME A MUSE
1. I first came across the “shadow” concept in Julia Cameron’s book The Artist’s Way: “Very often audacity, not talent, makes one person an artist and another a shadow artist—hiding in the shadows, afraid to step out and expose the dream to the light, fearful that it will disintegrate to the touch.” Unfortunately, I’ve never gotten past the first two chapters because I have the attention span of a housefly.
4. TAKE A WRITING CLASS
1. As Austin Kleon so smartly points out in his book Show Your Work!
2. During the second to last week of class, Rebecca’s dad passed away unexpectedly. His death set off a sort of soul-searing sorrow I’d never experienced before. On my walk to class the day after his death, Rebecca called to ask if I could do the eulogy. A “funny one,” she specified. I’d never been to a funeral, to say nothing of being asked to perform at one. “Of course,” I told her. Moments later, I ran into David in the hallway and burst into tears. He empathetically sent me home for the day. “If you have any eulogy writing advice, it’d be greatly appreciated,” I told him. He sent me this response: “I’d say be careful to make it more about the person who died than about you. When talking about one’s feelings about death or about the person, it’s hard to write without making it about yourself. So, find that balance if you can, between talking about yourself and talking about the person. I also always suggest telling stories. In fact, I’d argue that the best memorial services and funerals really take place after official ceremonies when everyone goes out drinking telling stor
ies about the person who died.” I learned a lot about confidence and story structure in that class, but David’s advice on how to write a eulogy resulted in the one of the most meaningful things I’ve ever written.
7. HAVE A DRAMATIC AIRPORT REUNION
1. I’m always hitting on women when I’m drunk. Taiwan was the first place I succeeded in getting one to go home with me. Sadly, not on that night, and not with Cathy. She was so cute!
10. SUBMIT AN ESSAY TO THE NEW YORK TIMES
1. To read my Modern Love piece please flip to page 313.
11. LEARN TO DRINK
1. Open marriages didn’t exist in my limited worldview at the time. I still think they’re too tricky of an arrangement for me to navigate. I know, I know, it’s not “woke,” but I don’t need my strings getting tangled in another person’s strings.
12. GO TO INDIA
1. Especially since he decided, last minute, that he wanted to join us. I love drama, so it didn’t bother me too much, but it changed the dynamic of the trip from a Girls’ Weekend to an “I’m gonna miss you so much, baby. Marina can you give us a minute?” weekend.
13. QUIT SHITTY JOB
1. You better believe I saved every character Jerry typed. Gchats live forever. I cannot emphasize this enough. Always conduct yourself like your computer will be hacked and everything you’ve typed into that metal box will be emailed to the last person you’d ever want to see it.
17. DO A LATE-NIGHT SET
1. However I’d never give creepy comics the type of power that comes with taking credit for ruining my baby career as a stand-up.
20. MOVE BACK TO NEW YORK
1. Why is it bad to settle, and good to settle down? I could never tell the difference between the two.
21. BUY REAL FURNITURE
1. The same kitchen where Sam asked me to marry him two years after we moved in together.
22. SELL A PAINTING
1. As Queen Rihanna put it in her 2007 hit, “Umbrella.”
23. WATCH ALL THREE GODFATHER MOVIES
1. It’s simple: a walk to get burgers.
25. COOK A FIVE-COURSE MEAL
1. If you’re interested: Steak, stuffed mushroom caps, salad, spinach balls, and coffee cookies.
26. FIND A JOB I LOVE
1. After my video went viral I received many emails from strangers asking for advice on how to pursue their dream career. If you are one of those strangers reading this right now, thank you for reading, I love you. As for advice on how to pursue your dream career, the first step is to leave the job that’s making you sad. But do it in a tactful way—unless you need to blow up that life, in which case may I suggest a not-negligible number of sparklers that spell out, “I QUIT.”
2. It helps to have one work confidant. Someone you can gossip with (I love to gossip!), and complain to, when things get hairy in the office. It’s best to do all complaining offline and after hours, or at least use codenames so nothing can be traced back to you.
27. FLY FIRST CLASS
1. I hate spending money. One time, it took me fifty-five minutes to choose between two pregnancy tests—one for eight dollars and one for twenty-three dollars. I mean really, why the fifteen-dollar difference? Is one more accurate than the other? Does the twenty-three-dollar one come with a referral?
2. On the flight to Seattle, I sat in the row behind first class in something called premium economy (I’d never heard of it before). It turns out food and drink are also free in premium economy, but I was too much of a ding-dong to realize it. I declined all the flight attendant’s kind attempts at wining and/or dining me—completely missing out on what would’ve been my introductory firstish-class flight. But whatever, you have to sit in front of the thin little curtain for it to count.
29. VISIT RUSSIA
1. A few weeks later a tree fell through James’s roof. I’m not saying the two are related, but the timing is curious.
2. Yes, Olga is also my mother’s name. In fact, I have another cousin on the same side of the family named Olga, also married to an Ilya. There are three Anyas, three Tanyas, a couple of Sanyas, and a handful of Borises in my family. Russian names must be paired with a possessive—your Olga, my Boris, his Anya, her Vladimir—so everyone will know who is actually being talked about.
3. Yes, Russia has Uber too. It’s exactly the same as it is in the US, except all the drivers are from the US and have thick American accents. Just kidding.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Marina Shifrin is a published writer who lives in East Hollywood and likes it. Sometimes. She’s written for TV, but not enough. She’s written for free, but too much. Her middle name is Vladimirovna. (Yes, she’s Russian.) 30 Before 30 is her first book. You can sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT NOTICE
DEDICATION
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
A LITTLE INTRO, IF I MAY …
1. GO TO A NUDE BEACH
2. RIDE BIKE ACROSS BROOKLYN BRIDGE
3. BECOME A MUSE
4. TAKE A WRITING CLASS
5. ADOPT A DOG
6. DONATE HAIR
7. HAVE A DRAMATIC AIRPORT REUNION
8. LIVE IN A DIFFERENT COUNTRY
9. LEARN HOW TO DRESS MY BODY
10. SUBMIT AN ESSAY TO THE NEW YORK TIMES
11. LEARN TO DRINK
12. GO TO INDIA
13. QUIT SHITTY JOB
14. BECOME FAMOUS
15. MEET ROE CONN
16. TAKE A CITY BUS TOUR
17. DO A LATE-NIGHT SET
18. TELL A STORY AT THE MOTH
19. FALL IN LOVE (FOR REAL)
20. MOVE BACK TO NEW YORK
21. BUY REAL FURNITURE
22. SELL A PAINTING
23. WATCH ALL THREE GODFATHER MOVIES
24. EAT A MEAL ALONE
25. COOK A FIVE-COURSE MEAL
26. FIND A JOB I LOVE
27. FLY FIRST CLASS
28. BECOME A GOOD HOST
29. VISIT RUSSIA
30. WRITE A BOOK
APPENDIX: MODERN LOVE
NOTES
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
COPYRIGHT
The names and identifying characteristics of some persons described in this book have been changed, as have other details of events depicted in the book.
30 BEFORE 30. Copyright © 2018 by Marina Shifrin. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.wednesdaybooks.com
www.stmartins.com
All images courtesy of the author.
Cover design by Kerri Resnick
Cover lettering and illustration by Darren Booth
The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-1-250-12971-0 (trade paperback)
ISBN 978-1-250-12972-7 (ebook)
eISBN 9781250129727
Our ebooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, extension 5442, or by email at [email protected].
First Edition: July 2018
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