Today is my 29th birthday. It started with one balloon, two breakfasts from Panera, three cards from coworkers, and plenty of hugs and singing and laughter. Then someone gave me a knowing look and asked, "So . . . 29, huh? How are you handling that?"

In the moment, I smiled confidently and told her I felt fine, but I've been secretly dreading that question for weeks. I'm supposed to feel like I'm on the edge of a precipice, clinging to the remnants of my youth and beauty and hope as I peer down into the valley of the shadow of death and/or my thirties. But the only things I know for certain I will miss about being a twenty-something are 1) a decade-long connection with Jamie Cullum's Twentysomething album and 2) my equally long-lasting (albeit somewhat lapsed) connection to the TwentySomethingBloggers (20SB) community.

As such, I have decided to listen to Mr. Cullum's album as I write this blog post, and I have decided that this blog post will be the first in a series of daily updates—letters from my 29-year-old self that I hope to look back on for many years to come. I don't expect that my life will be significantly different simply because I survive another trip around the sun, but I do hope that my life continues to be impacted by the memories I choose to share and remember and by the friends I meet and love because of the Internet. That is why I started blogging in the first place, and it's why I continue to share photos and tweets and vlogs and Tumblrseses and so on.

So here's to another year of memories, another year of friendships, and one last year of being a twenty-something. Cheers.