The Big 3-0

I can see why people freak out about their thirtieth birthday. The magic and lightness of your twenties are OVER.  Thirty = responsibility, groundedness, exchanging hard lemonades and late night runs to Taco Bell for goblets of merlot and shared appetizers of bruschetta...but not too late, we have a babysitter tonight, so gotta get home soon, mm-k?

For the record, I still like late night runs to Taco Bell.

I decided to embrace 30. I don't have much choice in the matter, so why not embrace it. I'm actually really content with my life right now, so there was a sense of comfort in reaching 30. Life partner and kid, check. Good friends, check. Cozy, comfortable home, check. A job I love, check. Feeling connected to my community, check. A couple signs of wrinkles on my brow, check.

Wrinkles add character.  At least that's what they tell me.

To ring in 30 properly, a couple friends and I ditched our responsibilities for one short weekend and cruised to "The Cities" which, as any North Dakotan knows, refers to the Twin Cities of Minneapolis/St. Paul. We crashed at a downtown hotel, shopped, talked, ate, laughed, drank, ate, laughed some more, went to the spa, giggled at the simple pleasure of spending an afternoon in a bathrobe. No Mall of America this time, but we did have a grand time grooving to The World's Most Dangerous Polka Band at Nye's Polonaise Room in downtown Minnie. The bartender crowned our shared slice of homemade carrot cake with a candle and we toasted to 30 with bottles of High Life ("It IS the champagne of beers," our bartender reminded us).

I think 30 is going to be a very good year.