When I was a senior in high school, I attended a dinner celebration in honor of my father’s birthday. I was sitting at a table with all of my parents’ friends, and I distinctly remember asking them what age they had enjoyed the most. Nearly every single one of them offered the same answer: “30-something.” At the time, 30 seemed like a far-away land to the 17-year-old me. Today, not so much. I’ll be blowing out 30 candles on my cake tonight and when I do, I’ll be thinking back on that memory. It makes me extra optimistic about what’s to come. So far, three-oh is pretty wonderful. I guess they were on to something.