Dirty Thirty
Kelle's taking me on a surprise trip this weekend for my 30th birthday. All I know is that it's somewhere within driving distance of Tallahassee and that it doesn't involve any embarrassing live tv moments. So, listen up, weather. I don't want to see any hurricanes, tropical storms, or anything else that might hinder me from having my best 30th birthday ever.
For my birthday present to myself, I'm buying a 2007 Toyota Matrix. Good gas mileage, more room for the dogs to frolic, and, according to their promotional materials, it's like a rave on wheels. Ecstacy not included.
So, am I freaking out about turning 30? Nope. It seems just like another birthday, aside from the fact that everybody keeps asking me if I'm "freaking out". Anyway, sixty is the new forty, so, by that rationale, thirty is the new twenty. Damn, I can't even have a drink on my birthday yet.