Today I turned 23 years old. I don’t feel old, so you don’t have to ask me if I do. As my boss said to me earlier today, I don’t think you start really feeling old until you hit 30. So I have plenty of time left to be young, which is good news.
I didn’t do anything too elaborate or special to celebrate, but I had a nice dinner at our favorite Italian place (E Tutto Qua) in North Beach yesterday and we went to the Cheesecake Factory for dinner today. Friday I’m meeting up with a bunch of our designer friends for food, drink, and good company. It’s been, and should continue to be, a good week.
It’s weird to think back on my 22nd birthday, the first time I drank waaay too much and got sick. I don’t remember a thing, which I’m actually kind of grateful for. (However I don’t think my friend Diana appreciates that.) I was a few months out of college and hadn’t found a job yet and I also hadn’t started officially dating Louie, either. If you had asked me then where I saw myself in a year, I would have said as a book designer in New York. Instead I’m working as a web designer in San Francisco, kind of a 180. But I’m happy with my decision to move, and hope that San Francisco continues to grow on me.