How time flies...

And now I'm thirty. It all happened so fast. Thirty will feel strange on my tongue for a good spell, I think. Twenty-nine had a nice ring to it; it has a magical, mystical quality. You're on the border between worlds, really, and it feels like anything can happen.

The Land of Youth: Here it is still acceptable to drink until drunk and wake up with a hangover, wear all the current and most outlandish trends (2 inches of ass crack, anyone?), have nigh-unto-anonymous sex. Not to say that any of these are good things, but when you reach

The Land of Adulthood: Suddenly, the aforementioned shenanigans are accompanied by "She's too old to wear that" and "I'm too old for this" and "I would, if my knees didn't hurt so bad." At this point, I'm a little over a third of the way through my life. It's weird and sobering to think about.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not unhappy about being older. I think my thirties will be good years. But it is a bit surreal.