…and surprisingly, no tears were shed. There was nary even a frown. In actuality, it was a quite good birthday, with my friends and co-workers throwing me a lovely surprise party (one of them, who is a pastry chef, even made me a cake!) I really didn’t even need the flood of “30s are the new 20s” sentiments that came my way. I’m 30, and I’m perfectly ok with it.

I have to admit, I’m feeling pretty lucky lately. I finally found myself a nice, geeky boy to settle down with (in fact, he’s in the process of moving in with me right now.) I am surrounded by a great family and good friends. I have a job I like (most of the time), and a career I love (all of the time.) Oh, and a cat, a really awesome cat.

I celebrated the actual day like any mature, 30-year-old adult would, with a new tattoo and cheese fries at the diner. Oh, and ice cream cake, of course.