Well, away we go.
A brand new decade to embrace and learn. I'm going to be honest... 30 hit me harder than I thought it would. I am not one who cares about numbers or aging; or rather, didn't think that I did. However, I teared up as the clock struck midnight and I raised a shot glass saying farewell to my lost twenties. (I played it off with a yawn. Don't worry... no one will know what a baby you are. Also, I didn't vomacano the shot. so. double win.)
I got glasses a couple of weeks ago. I tried to dye my hair purple but just don't have the patience for multiple bleachings... so I got bangs instead. I got another tattoo. I finished all of the free Downton Abbys. I go by Blanche, now. 30, let's do this.
Also, along the lines of some 1/3 life crisis (hey! It ain't mid yet!) I have decided to move to Colorado. I have less than five months left here... and I am terrified. I have never been on such a big move before. Especially not without any friends going with me. I am taking the fam and although I am very thankful for that, it is not quite the same. Dad is ecstatic, as is Mom... as am I, I suppose. But still afraid.
Afraid that I am going to lose everyone. Also afraid that it will end up being the same story in a different state; because as much as it is the change that scares me... it is the change that I so desperately need.
So, here's to my big girl year (let's hope that only means age. gotta get back to boot camp before the hips start going out).
Does this mean I have to go by "adult," now? I duh know... I'll ask my mom.
"30 is the new 20." Well, I'm not sure I got so much out of my 20s. So let's hope 30 is... 30.
Maybe I'll dye my hair purple tomorrow. Or buy a cat.
