The Gateway.

I feel like a cliche.

According to me, and debatable by others, 27 is officially the gateway age to your late twenties. "Gateways" are never good. Marijuana is the gateway drug and apparently if you smoke that, before you know it, you'll find yourself in a trailer cooking meth wondering what happened to your bicuspids and why your face has potholes in it.

Needless to say, I've always been told to stay away from gateways. Apparently, time and I have a little dilemma on our hands.

[I've never been here, but it is the gateway of the west. Maybe the exception?]

I've never had a birthday before where I was thinking, wow, 30 is in your very real future. Not that 30 is that old (this statement is simply made out of courtesy to my 30+ friends; 30 is indeed "old" to the twenty-something). But luckily, when I reach 30, I'll think that they are my best years. And the same for 40. And apparently 50. We progressively either get better at life or we say life gets better in order to cope with our mortality.

Not sure if the chicken or the egg comes first here. I'll get back to you in 3 years.

So what does this non-mainstream milestone mean? I'm not sure.

Last year on the eve of my twenty-sixth, I got inked. This was something I contemplated over for a long while as it'd be on my body, well, forever. What could I possibly want on me FOR-EV-ER? Most people don't know and do it anyway only to be reminded on their 70th birthday when they're married to Lucy that they love Mary, thanks to the heart with her name inked on it on their not-so-raging bicep. Think twice about names, folks. Unless it's your own or kin you can't divorce.

Instead of permanently burning my skin with someone's name, my sign (apparently these change too?), or chinese symbol for "peace," I decided to get a reminder.

There's only one thing I feel really strongly about and that is simply, to do everything.

Going to the places that fascinate me, eating the food that makes my mouth water and doing it all with the fantastic people I am lucky enough to have as a part of my story. So I appropriately tattooed the phrase "Experience the World" on my leg/ankle region. In Greek. Because Greece kind of changed my life. (Yes, I've been there and this cannot and shall not be compared to the Chinese symbol comment I previously made).

So to get me out of my twenties-are-going-by-incredibly-too-fast-funk, I decided to recap the year and see what I did. Did I experience the world this last year?

I did Cabo. Vegas round 6? Road tripped to Crater Lake on a whim. Participated in Sundance the sequel. Annual Newport Seafood & Wine Fest. Then I relocated to Seattle.

As long as I can look down on every passing birthday and know that I indeed have not become b-o-r-i-n-g and that I haven't fallen out of love with life, I guess I'm okay and 30 isn't so scary.

And tomorrow? Tomorrow I leave for Barbados to see my mom.