66 days left of my 20's. Man, this definitely doesn't feel like I thought it would. I mean, the physical signs of age are coming: my body aches a bit more and I definitely have to be cognizant of what I eat. While I still look good for my age (ahem #myblackdontcrack), I'm no longer the baby-faced woman who could pass for a high-school student.*

29 going on 30 isn't what I thought it would be. I still feel so young. Not that 30 is old or anything, but it is older--it's adult. Once May 2 comes, I can no longer refer to myself as a young adult. It's official. I'm grown.

So with my thirtieth birthday waiting around the corner, and other 30th birthday travel invites pouring in, I'm thinking, "What do I want for my birthday?" It's a question my husband often asks, and I'm never fully satisfied with my answer. I now know why. I want experiences, not just things.

This year, I will give myself permission to do things I truly want to do. Too often, I deny myself joy because of finances, I have no one to do it with me, I'm afraid to do it, etc. That stops today. The trips that I want to take, I'll take them. The movies and shows I want to see, I'll see them. The things I want to learn...well, you get the picture.

So I'm excited for what will be an exciting year. I'm praying that I'll have so many stories to tell by May 2018. I'm getting ready, adventure is right around the corner.

*Nor do I even want to. I embrace the aging process. I'm actually looking forward to my first gray hair. I look good (read: young) because I take good care of the great skin God blessed me with. I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Anyway, I'm glad that my face is starting to age. Each wrinkle means I've enjoyed life, that's all.