Last week, I turned 28.
I am now solidly in my late-20s, which feels a little bizarre. In the grand scheme of things, I know I'm not really that old, but when kids you babysat are going to college and your knee yells at you almost every time you workout, it's hard to not feel your age.
On Friday night, I went out to dinner with a few girlfriends for a low-key celebration. We talked about work and life and marriage, joked about my status as the rebel child of my family amidst discussions of my newly acquired nose-piercing and upcoming visit to the tattoo parlor. We ate steak and melt-in-your mouth rolls and all took turns sharing a flourless chocolate waffle with "happy birthday" gorgeous scripted in melted chocolate on the plate.Read More