30 is choosing between day drinking and going out at night. You can only pick one. Exceptions: Saturday brunch followed by a serious nap or Las Vegas. (Note: Las Vegas is always on the exception list.)

30 is knowing you better stay hydrated while day drinking or you will be cursed with a waking hangover hours later.

30 is predetermining that you don't want to go out on a Friday night, cause you've had a hell of a week, but you give people hope anyway. Then you text them that you're exhausted and in bed at 10:30pm.

30 is paying for all meals when you're with your folks. It's also paying for a majority of things when they're in your company. Role reversal gets expensive, but its payback time.

30 is not apologizing for your own opinions as long as you have a valid rationale. I might apologize for offending you, but I don't have to apologize for disagreeing.

30 is asking for what you want out of life. Whether that means you need to have a conversation with your boss about the next step in your career or if you need to have "the talk" with the person you're sleeping with.

30 is seeing opportunities and taking them. Watch out for the open doors and windows, sometimes we're too preoccupied to pay attention.

30 is not having time for bullshit. I can't deal with the dude running wack game at the bar. I don't have the patience for whiny women. No thanks.

30 is knowing what looks good on you. Cheetah print. Fuchsia lipstick. Short hair. Plaid. Plaid. Plaid.

30 is being practical. You know just how long you can survive in a certain pair of heels. You know that you can't travel to the bar without a jacket even if you don't want to hang onto it once you're inside. You’re 30, you can afford coat check.

30 is knowing your limits. I know how many drinks I can handle without hurting the next day. I know when I need to refuse peer pressure (even though I'm pretty susceptible, I can still stand my ground). I know what I can and cannot handle.