It’s been a while since I’ve updated you on the whereabouts of my life coaches, Zest and Zeal.
You might recall their infamous post-Christmas shenanigans. I’ve since moved the vodka to a higher shelf in the freezer, and confiscated the handcuffs. Nevertheless, old habits die hard…
In fact, it would appear they’ve even started having secret meetings. I fear a cult is forming, and these young recruits will soon do their bidding.



Despite their unsavory reputation, I find myself turning to Zest and Zeal for advice. You see, something terrible is about to happen. And I can’t stop it. It’s almost as terrible as when someone tells you “you have a pretty face” or when I learned you can’t legally buy Kinder Surprise eggs in the United States.
I’m about to…
…Well, you see…
It’s just that…
Dangnabbit. I’m turning 30 in 3 weeks!!! And I don’t like it one bit. So, with an old, decrepit and heavy heart, I sought out Zest and Zeal last night. The conversation went a little something like this:
Me: Guys, I just don’t know what I’m doing with my life.
Zeal: Here, have another drink.
Me: F&*%. How’d you get my vodka?
Zest (glancing nervously at Zeal): You know, Jules, you’d look really good with green hair.
Me: Ha ha. Thanks for bringing that up. Thanks a lot. You’re supposed to be making me feel better.
Zest: Um…Second Husband? Glee? Champagne? Cats dressed like Easter bunnies? Titanic in 3D?
Me (starting to smile, then frowning): But won’t I be too old for all of that? 30-year-old women aren’t supposed to eat animal crackers just because they come in a cute little box with a string. And I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t have a Jersey Shore wall calendar in the kitchen. And, oh god. I bet the next time I go to the MAC make-up counter they’re going to call me ma’am.
Zeal (hiding the vodka behind his back): Jules. Jules, Jules, Jules… On the road of life, there are many winding, um… roads.
Me: Shut up.
Zeal: I wasn’t finished. (takes deep breath) There are many winding roads, and you need to learn to…um…put on the brakes and stop and smell the…deer…poop.
Me: I hate you.
Zeal: Why don’t we just SHOW you how good life after 30 can be?
Me (narrowing eyes): The last time you said you wanted to show me something, it involved a bb gun and Kate Gosselin wigs.
Zeal: You said you liked it!
Me: I was…just trying to be…polite…
Zeal: Listen. Do you want our help or not?
Zest: Isn’t he as cute as a peanut when he’s frustrated?
Me (muttering): …I’m going to regret this, but… Fine. Show me.





Me: Gosh. Thanks, guys. I actually do feel better now. …Zest? Zeal? Where’d you go? Aw, crud. I’m getting too old for this sh*t.
Have you ever gotten any good (or bad) advice about getting older? How do you cope with the aging process?