<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3924377692830097667</id><updated>2011-07-30T14:04:15.863-05:00</updated><category term='never ever'/><category term='i love my family'/><category term='thems was my magic shoes'/><category term='party hearty'/><category term='put on your big girl panties'/><category term='illegal but fun'/><category term='ashamed to say'/><category term='foodie fun'/><category term='musings'/><title type='text'>never have i ever</title><subtitle type='html'>one more year to revel in the 20's, though I don't fear the 30's</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislastyearasatwentysomething.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3924377692830097667/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislastyearasatwentysomething.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>amandalou81</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08681395873682662594</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>4</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3924377692830097667.post-4030071275568445466</id><published>2010-09-16T21:31:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T21:34:54.374-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='foodie fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='party hearty'/><title type='text'>Scratch One (and a half) off the List!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4SCYNoFyHiU/TJLS44B8jzI/AAAAAAAAAB0/tJ19REzSJ2g/s1600/Crabs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4SCYNoFyHiU/TJLS44B8jzI/AAAAAAAAAB0/tJ19REzSJ2g/s320/Crabs.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;“my heart remains rural, my days eclipsed in a life where the country is on the edge of the world, and the city is at my door.” (amandalou81, circa 2007)  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;I moved away from home at 18. &amp;nbsp;I was always a tad bit too metropolitan for the small town, though I’m quick to grab a glove and head bare-faced onto the softball field, and oftentimes (always) I’m the one hosting our annual crawfish boil. &amp;nbsp;It came as a surprise last year when I mentioned that I had never had boiled shrimp. (I love shrimp!) &amp;nbsp;The problem was solved very quickly, and after stumbling through peeling my first two shrimp, I was quickly outpacing the city slickers surrounding me at the table.   Sunday night one of the gals at work texted me to let me know that she would be holding a Crab Boil for the kickoff to MNF the following evening. &amp;nbsp;Hey! &amp;nbsp;I’ve never had boiled crabs! &amp;nbsp;(I love crabs! But, with only two seafood eaters and one very picky eater in the family, we never ventured too far away from our staples. &amp;nbsp;My palate greatly expanded after I left home.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;So Monday night I showed up ready to officially scratch the first item off my 29 Things To Do list. &amp;nbsp;Everyone at the party knew some version of my goal for this year, so all night long I heard variations of "Where are you from again?" and "Are you sure you're from Louisiana?" &amp;nbsp;My host was from&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?client=safari&amp;amp;rls=en&amp;amp;q=golden+meadow,+louisiana&amp;amp;oe=UTF-8&amp;amp;um=1&amp;amp;ie=UTF-8&amp;amp;hq=&amp;amp;hnear=Golden+Meadow,+LA&amp;amp;gl=us&amp;amp;ei=a76STKPkFIWglAeFlrymCg&amp;amp;sa=X&amp;amp;oi=geocode_result&amp;amp;ct=image&amp;amp;resnum=1&amp;amp;ved=0CB8Q8gEwAA"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #001ae4;"&gt;Golden Meadow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;and the resident expert on peeling crabs. &amp;nbsp;After a quick lesson I was set down with my own plate of crabs and nothing but my hands before me. &amp;nbsp;Like the shrimp, I fumbled through my first, but quickly (I think) got the hang of it. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;Many many drinks later, the party moved to the front yard, where, football forgotten, one of the vehicles was being...slumbered? &amp;nbsp;Poor soul had a bit too much to drink and in the name of responsibility, had called a friend to bring him home. &amp;nbsp;Like the slumber party and the girl who fell asleep first, it was open season on the truck. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;While that was going on, some of us spectators were talking about this blog and asking about some of the other items on the list. &amp;nbsp;After hearing massage, one guy quickly grabbed my shoulders, did a little massage and exclaimed "You can tell everyone that your first massage was done by&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://www.travismatte.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #001ae4;"&gt;Travis Matte&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;!" &amp;nbsp;Um, no...sorry Travis. &amp;nbsp;I think my first professional massage will still occur at a&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://www.belladonnadayspa.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #001ae4;"&gt;spa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;in New Orleans. &amp;nbsp;You're welcome to fund the trip, though!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3924377692830097667-4030071275568445466?l=thislastyearasatwentysomething.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislastyearasatwentysomething.blogspot.com/feeds/4030071275568445466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thislastyearasatwentysomething.blogspot.com/2010/09/scratch-one-and-half-off-list_16.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3924377692830097667/posts/default/4030071275568445466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3924377692830097667/posts/default/4030071275568445466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislastyearasatwentysomething.blogspot.com/2010/09/scratch-one-and-half-off-list_16.html' title='Scratch One (and a half) off the List!'/><author><name>amandalou81</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08681395873682662594</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4SCYNoFyHiU/TJLS44B8jzI/AAAAAAAAAB0/tJ19REzSJ2g/s72-c/Crabs.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3924377692830097667.post-7781306048773764083</id><published>2010-08-30T23:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-30T23:16:46.930-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='put on your big girl panties'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thems was my magic shoes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='party hearty'/><title type='text'>Baby Steps...all 2.5 miles worth</title><content type='html'>I hate to run. &amp;nbsp;I'm slow. &amp;nbsp;There's just no other way to explain it. &amp;nbsp;That's what I keep telling myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First day of softball tryouts during my freshman year of high school, Coach calls us into a huddle at the track and says "Go. &amp;nbsp;Run. &amp;nbsp;1 mile. &amp;nbsp;I'm timing you." &amp;nbsp;I had never run more than a lap around the bases, or "Poles," from one foul pole to the other, if we had an exceptionally bad game. &amp;nbsp;Certainly nothing that even resembled a mile. &amp;nbsp;My time was somewhere in the 11 minute range. &amp;nbsp;Afterwards she told us to stretch out and we were dismissed until the following day. &amp;nbsp;I started walking along the side of the football field back up to the main building when my legs cramped up and I collapsed near the boy's batting cages. &amp;nbsp;One of the boy's coaches (who also happened to be one of my best friend's older brother) came over to work the cramps out of my legs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't make the team that year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I certainly didn't run another mile, not until 3.5 years ago. &amp;nbsp;I was enjoying $1 Margaritas at one of our local watering holes with some friends and we were reminiscing about the days of college--walking around campus during the days, dancing in the bars at night. &amp;nbsp;We were all thin. &amp;nbsp;Now we had settled into desk jobs and the pounds were threatening. &amp;nbsp; I started talking with a friend of mine and we decided that since we lived in the same neighborhood, we would start running together. &amp;nbsp;Three months later we ran our first 5K. &amp;nbsp;A few months after that, we started dating, and a few months after that we stopped running altogether. &amp;nbsp;There come spurts when we decide to run, but it's always short lived on my part. &amp;nbsp;I keep saying that I hate to run. &amp;nbsp;I'm not a runner. &amp;nbsp;(But I was logging nearly 15 miles a week during our running peak.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of the purpose of this year is to do things that I have avoided--for fear or for convenience. &amp;nbsp;I paid my entry fee into the Cajun Cup, a local 10K race on November 13. &amp;nbsp;I looked up 10K training schedules and planned the next 10 weeks accordingly. &amp;nbsp;And tonight I strapped on my running shoes and ran 2.5 miles. &amp;nbsp;Slowly. &amp;nbsp;But without stopping. &amp;nbsp;And I said I wasn't a runner.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3924377692830097667-7781306048773764083?l=thislastyearasatwentysomething.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislastyearasatwentysomething.blogspot.com/feeds/7781306048773764083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thislastyearasatwentysomething.blogspot.com/2010/08/baby-stepsall-25-miles-worth.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3924377692830097667/posts/default/7781306048773764083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3924377692830097667/posts/default/7781306048773764083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislastyearasatwentysomething.blogspot.com/2010/08/baby-stepsall-25-miles-worth.html' title='Baby Steps...all 2.5 miles worth'/><author><name>amandalou81</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08681395873682662594</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3924377692830097667.post-5038716943930863014</id><published>2010-08-06T22:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-06T22:32:35.387-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='i love my family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='illegal but fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='never ever'/><title type='text'>...but I won't do that!</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"&gt;My boyfriend turned 30 a few months ago.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;When I asked him what he wanted for his birthday, he paused before answering.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;His response?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;He said that there was nothing material that he really wanted, but he had never in his life tried Moonshine.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;He wanted to try it before he turned 30.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Luckily, I know the right kind of wrong people and I was able to procure a handle of the Tennessee Mountain Dew.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I picked it up the morning of his birthday celebration and he was able to experience Moonshine 2 days before his 30&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; birthday.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"&gt;Now, why am I talking about my boyfriend’s experience with Moonshine on MY 29-things-to-do blog?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I started thinking about things to add to the list and was laughing at all of the other illegal substances that I would never put in my body.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;One that’s not illegal, but will never appear on my to-do list:&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Smoke.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"&gt;Both my parents were smokers.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I say “were” because exactly 10 years and one week ago my father asked me what I wanted for my 19&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; birthday.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I had just completed my first year of living away from home for college and had moved back for the summer.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Living away from the smoke and then being surrounded by it again made me realize how much I just didn’t like the smell and what it did to my sinuses.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;(I went to a bar last Saturday night and woke up Sunday morning with a nosebleed.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;No thank you.)&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;When Daddy asked me what I wanted for my birthday, I told him that I wanted him and Mom to stop smoking, never expecting either to quit.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;A few days later, on the Sunday before my 19&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; birthday, my Dad quit smoking—cold turkey.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I realized the date yesterday and called him to congratulate him.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;CONGRATS DADDY!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"&gt;My to-do list is slowly growing, but I still need suggestions…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ol start="1" style="margin-top: 0in;" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"&gt;Stay awake for 24      hours (Who’s throwing the party?)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"&gt;Change a diaper (Miss      Phoebe Z or Mr. Wes M?)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"&gt;Go skydiving (Jumper      Attorney where are you?)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"&gt;Eat raw oysters (Bill      B volunteered for this one)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"&gt;Watch Scarface, Gone      with the Wind, and Sound of Music (due for a movie marathon Saturday with      Barry B, Jimmy C, and Rachelle L…I’ll cook!)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;Drive a 4-Wheeler      (Someone invite me camping!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;Cook Indonesian food (native Cindy G promises to turn down the spice)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"&gt;Get a massage      (SA and Bill B—knock out Oysters and Spa Day in one weekend?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Road trip to NOLA?)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3924377692830097667-5038716943930863014?l=thislastyearasatwentysomething.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislastyearasatwentysomething.blogspot.com/feeds/5038716943930863014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thislastyearasatwentysomething.blogspot.com/2010/08/but-i-wont-do-that.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3924377692830097667/posts/default/5038716943930863014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3924377692830097667/posts/default/5038716943930863014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislastyearasatwentysomething.blogspot.com/2010/08/but-i-wont-do-that.html' title='...but I won&apos;t do that!'/><author><name>amandalou81</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08681395873682662594</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3924377692830097667.post-7912873701183477670</id><published>2010-08-02T22:08:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-02T22:19:05.191-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ashamed to say'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='musings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='party hearty'/><title type='text'>Happy Birthday to Me!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I will turn 30 in 365 days. As I embark upon this last year as a twentysomething, I realize that I could be one of those people who celebrate anniversaries of her twenty-ninth birthday, or I could embrace the start of my thirties with a smile.&amp;nbsp; Whatever I decide, that’s a whole year away and I plan to make the most of my 29&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;1. &amp;nbsp;Stay up 24 hours straight&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;2. &amp;nbsp;Eat raw oysters&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;3. &amp;nbsp;Skydive&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;4. &amp;nbsp;Change a diaper&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;5. &amp;nbsp;Watch Scarface&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’ve got a friend who is doing &lt;a href="http://yearof52adventures.com/author/jscribe/"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; project, and while I don’t know if I could come up with one adventure for each week of the year, surely I can come up with one “first” for each year of my life?&amp;nbsp; In the last few months I’ve realized that there are several “coming of ages” experiences of which I have yet to participate.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I had my first kiss at 15 and was engaged at 17. (That didn’t work out, btw…thankfully) &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I graduated from college at 21 and passed my national licensing exam at 24.&amp;nbsp; I was 23 the first time I flew on an airplane.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; That same year I&amp;nbsp;bought a house. &amp;nbsp;I started my own LLC at 26&amp;nbsp;and I was 27 the first (and last) time that I shot a gun.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I have not, however, ever stayed awake for 24 hours straight, not even throughout design school...though I’ve come close a few times.&amp;nbsp; My baby-phobia has kept me away from ever changing a diaper, and I always blamed softball for missing out on whole eras of television.&amp;nbsp; Friends?&amp;nbsp; Never watched it.&amp;nbsp; Indiana Jones?&amp;nbsp; Only a few months ago did a few of us have a marathon movie weekend, but I fell asleep during the 3&lt;sup&gt;rd&lt;/sup&gt; movie.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;So…here’s my plan:&amp;nbsp; come up with 29 things that I have never done before and attempt to complete them all this year.&amp;nbsp; According to my list thus far, I need people to party with all night long, I need to borrow someone’s kid with a dirty diaper (#1 only, please), I’ve got to tandem skydive…Jumper Attorney--I’m talking to you, Gulf Seafood was just deemed safe to eat (I’ll wait until next season for that one, just to be sure), and Scarface has been added to the Netflix queue.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;As far as the other two dozen “firsts” that I need to accomplish in the next year…any suggestions?&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3924377692830097667-7912873701183477670?l=thislastyearasatwentysomething.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislastyearasatwentysomething.blogspot.com/feeds/7912873701183477670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thislastyearasatwentysomething.blogspot.com/2010/08/happy-birthday-to-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3924377692830097667/posts/default/7912873701183477670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3924377692830097667/posts/default/7912873701183477670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislastyearasatwentysomething.blogspot.com/2010/08/happy-birthday-to-me.html' title='Happy Birthday to Me!'/><author><name>amandalou81</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08681395873682662594</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
