Watch Me Turn 30, by Ashley N.
Question of the year: Is spending your late 20s living on South Beach and island-hopping the Caribbean as a career a) every responsible adult's fantasy or b) totally outlandish and ultimately unfulfilling for a semi-responsible adult who still places an abnormally high priority on fun? Perhaps the mere concept of what constitutes adulthood has been distorted due to my surroundings.

Through this blog, I hope to figure out what being "almost 30" really means to me...hopefully, before the big b-day next January.

Thanks goes to Holly C. for, first and foremost, agreeing to go on one of my press trips to the 'burbs of Fort Lauderdale and ultimately passing this site along to me.
the photo for June 10, 2008
DAY 151  |  June 10, 2008
I am starting to fear for my safety in my own apartment. Yesterday, a small, guido-esque baby (old enough to have dark curly hair and walk, but not talk) in a white button down and a sweater vest, but absolutely no sort of pants, followed me to my apartment and tried to come in. Today, I saw it red shorts and red, white and blue high-top chuck taylors. Again, it followed me to my apartment and attempted to come in. I see small people. Totally freaked out. Sleeping up against the door. Being homeless never sounded so good.
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