I feel like I’m supposed to say something really profound here.
You know, this being the last day of of the last year of an entire decade of being a twenty something.
I’m sure I’m supposed to have come to important life realizations, looked back fondly at the crazy, bad, awesome decisions I made over the last ten years, and reflected on how much I’ve grown as a human being.
Instead I realized that I married Smokey The Bear’s long lost brother.
Perhaps I should be in some sort of existential crisis state where I round up all of my regrets and ruminate about time lost.
Except that’s all very serious and whiny.
And I try not to do that outside of my own head.
So here it is.
The last hurrah of my roaring 20’s.
Which naturally occurred the weekend before my 30th birthday.
Because I don’t go out during the week.
Because I’m old.
But not too old to celebrate a good craft beer.
Beer builds bridges into the future.
As a thirtysomething.
A time when getting kitchen appliances is more exciting than kicking ass at keg-stands.
I’m desperately clinging onto my twenty something self.
But somehow ready to embrace what my thirties has to bring.
After all, the Thirties is when prohibition ended.
And to that I say, party on.