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 September 20, 2008
DAY 253  |  September 20, 2008

I must have been naive to think this Scarface button down would be the most amusing part of my day. Later that night, I was fortunate enough to eavesdrop on the world's worst first date.

As is typical around here, guy was a d-bag attorney with 5-10 years on the girl. Instead of recognizing his luck, he instead spent close to an hour talking about his ex-wife (that bitch ann marie, all that alimony I owe her,) eating sushi with a fork, and asking the girl if she ever dated anyone without any baggage.

It was so bad that when he got up to go to the restroom, I turned to her and said, "This is the most horrible first date I have ever witnessed." She said it was the first date she has been on since Dec. Bad time to come out of retirement.

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