This past week has been a week of lasts. My last Friday night as a twentysomething, my last Sunday lie-in as a twentysomething, my last painful Monday morning wake-up as a twentysomething…. In case it isn’t slap-you-in-the-face obvious, this week I turn 30.
I am surprisingly not too tormented about the looming age milestone that many a woman has had a meltdown over. And I do wonder if now might be the time to stop panicking when I get asked for ID at the checkout when buying Burgundy… The wine. Not the place. Unfortunately.
As a child, I was one of the lucky ones. A birthday in half term, no school guaranteed, and one whole lazy day of presents and playing with them.
As an adult, it sucks.
Everywhere I go, I find myself amidst a crowd of little people. I am not saying I don’t like children, but I am perhaps one of those adults that only likes (and adores) the ones I know or am related to.
So, suggestions for child-avoiding, 30th-birthday-worthy weekday activities during half terms are most welcome. Answers on a postcard, please.
Today my parade is basking in sunlight and is entirely rainproof, as I can finally say hello to the new and improved, laurafeasey.com, fresh from the surgeons table, because even the virtual among us need a little facelift once in a while…
To celebrate, here’s a little story from my ‘About Me’ page…
I was five. I could still taste the saccharine sweet remnants of chocolate on my tongue. My mouth was smeared with cocoa crumbs and icing. My parents walked in, mouths wide open.
“Laura! Did you take a bite of grandma’s birthday cake?”
And so the storytelling began…
Today’s Daily Prompt is rather apt for someone who is entering the last year of her twenties tomorrow… “You’re tasked with creating a brand new astrological sign for the people born around your birthday — based solely on yourself. What would your new sign be, and how would you describe those who share it?”
Her teeth looked like they would bite with the weight of the earth behind them. Her lips quivered as she curled them in an angry grimace. The twisted smile was a word of warning.