It's official. I'm 30. I couldn't be happier. Everyone was right. Thirty is fine. It's the anxiety of turning 30 that will kill you, but once you cross over, it really is great. I realized over the past few days that I have a lot of wonderful friends who are so supportive of me and that means more to me than they can imagine. I've been told on several occasions (by outsiders observing me in relationships) that I am a good friend. That compliment carries more weight with me than if they complimented me on how smart I am, how good I cook, how I look, etc. To be regarded as a good friend by people who aren't even in your circle of friends means they can see the efforts you put forth to care for others. I do care for my friends a great deal and I'd do anything for them . . . every one of them. I also realized over the weekend how many circles of friends I have. I don't associate with any one class, type, or age of person. I have friends in every group, and I love every one of them just as they are.

Thank you, all, for your well wishes and encouragement as I whined about laying my twenties to rest.