I woke up on the morning of my 30th birthday in Palm Springs with the worst hangover of my thirties and was greeted at the mirror by a monster pimple on my cheek. Cool. I thought we’d be done with breakouts by now, but my face hasn’t gotten that memo.
I’ve spent the last year reminiscing on the last decade of my life. My twenties really defined me as a human, ya know? Although they didn’t start off great (I was seriously depressed and lonely AF when I was 19 turning 20. I had peaced out of Texas, ditched my entire life and family, to live with my 7th grade best friend in Sacramento, CA for an undecided amount of time.), for the most part my twenties were amazing. I met Joel at 21, moved to Pittsburgh at 24 where I helped renovate our first home, went to Europe for the first time at 25, got married at 26 (that seems SO young to me now!), AND DON’T FORGET I WENT TO ASIA AT 29 MMMMMKAY.
I learned a lot about myself and life in general, and true to blogger form, I want to make a list of all of it…
- I’m still scared shitless of cockroaches.
- It’s totally okay to be an anti-social introvert sometimes.
- Rum is not my drink (see also: how hungover I was on my birthday)
- Traveling is still my greatest ambition.
- I love babies and babies love me.
- I’m really bad at finishing lists…
If you live under a rock and don’t follow my Instagram stories, hopefully you put 2 and 2 together, using context clues throughout this post, and figured out that we went to Palm Springs for my 30th birthday weekend. IT WAS SO MUCH FUN (see also: too much fun = hangover)!
Excuse me now, it’s time to go do some real adulting…