Being Thirty is ... Strange

I swear, I think I have been to more bars in the last month than I did during my entire undergrad career.

Then again, we only went to the same two bars in town, and now I DO live in Reno, where there isn't anything else to do but drink.

(*see previous post about 30th birthday party and note the copious amounts of alcohol.)

Two weeks later:

My scrapbooking friends and I had what we call "Spring Fling." We get together and scrapbook, eat, and drink, and hopefully in that order. Not so this year. On Saturday, we started drinking at about 1:30 pm (champagne, who can resist? Not I!). I eventually had to take a nap and regenerate because I was going to see Randy's band play at 1:00 am. (One in the morning?, you ask. You must be mad, you declare. You are right on both counts. What AM I thinking? Oh! that he's cute.)

Seriously, dear readers, what possessed me to think that my old and decrepit body could handle this kind of partying? This is the type of thing I did when I was 20. Certainly not 30!!

The next day, it literally took me 1 1/2 hours to load up my car because I was moving so slowly. I only got 5 pages done! I usually get at least 20 done. Five is seriously pathetic.

The moral of the story: do not think that 30 does not affect your body. It most certainly does. And champagne at 1:30 in the afternoon might NOT be such a good idea. But then again, if the other ladies can do it, then so can I! I've never been one to say no to a drink. Or food. One or the other will eventually kill me.