ahream

Well, it had to happen. I am officially 29.

The countdown to 30 has begun, making this the last twelve months where I can reasonably expect to get away with outlandish behavior. This will, of course, require a planning period. The usual stuff is out. I’m not really a tattoo person, and I can see almost no tangible benefit to ending up naked on a bar in Hollywood. I’m not coordinated enough to join the circus and generally want to avoid anything that could involve the words “grand jury.” Other than that, I’m open to suggestion.

In fact, I’m thinking about a whole twelve-month plan. One slightly nuts-o thing a month to really send off my twenties in style. The more I think about it, the more I like it. A celebration of impetuousness and adventure.

For starters, I’ll be re-summiting Half Dome. That equipment failure/climbing accident some of you may remember can’t stand. I’m not going into 30 subconsciously terrified of, you know, falling to my death. So that’s one. Eleven more to go.

This will be entirely dependent on my ability to come up with twelve mostly legal activities, of course. So the comments section is wide open.

ahream Dispatches from the City of Angels I'm a mystery writer living in and writing about Los Angeles. You can catch my short story, "Running Venice," in the new anthology LAndmarked for Murder. Look for it in bookstores and on Amazon.com now. In the meantime, feel free to poke around. Over at my website you can find even more blog entries than I could fit here, as well as a few other ramblings. Enjoy and come back often.
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Previous Entry :: Next Entry Read/Post Comments (8) Most Recent Twitters: Reading Tony Broadbent's book, The Smoke. It's too good. I'm losing sleep. Nocturnal pattern shot to hell. Productivity declining. L.A. Finds: The Denver omelet at Pat's in Topanga is sublime in its simplicity. Exactly what you need and nothing else, much like the restaurant itself snuggled smack in the middle of an old hippie community where the peace signs and tie-dye still reign. Flickr Updates: The second Thursday of every month is the Downtown Art Walk. The galleries stay open late, the restaurants are packed, bands perform on the streets. God, I love L.A. What I'm Reading: The Smoke by Tony Broadbent What I Talk About When I Talk About Running by Haruki Murakami Want E-Mail Updates? Click here, type your e-mail address into the first field (for public entries) and receive an e-mail note each time a new blog post goes up. (Photo updates, Twitters and "L.A. Finds" features not included. Those you have to swing by and check yourself.) Absolutely, positively no spam. Promise. Other author blogs: Sue Ann Jaffarian Eric Stone Christa Faust Lipstick Chronicles		2008-06-25 12:59 PM Two. Nine. (aka “happy birthday to me”) Well, it had to happen. I am officially 29. The countdown to 30 has begun, making this the last twelve months where I can reasonably expect to get away with outlandish behavior. This will, of course, require a planning period. The usual stuff is out. I’m not really a tattoo person, and I can see almost no tangible benefit to ending up naked on a bar in Hollywood. I’m not coordinated enough to join the circus and generally want to avoid anything that could involve the words “grand jury.” Other than that, I’m open to suggestion. In fact, I’m thinking about a whole twelve-month plan. One slightly nuts-o thing a month to really send off my twenties in style. The more I think about it, the more I like it. A celebration of impetuousness and adventure. For starters, I’ll be re-summiting Half Dome. That equipment failure/climbing accident some of you may remember can’t stand. I’m not going into 30 subconsciously terrified of, you know, falling to my death. So that’s one. Eleven more to go. This will be entirely dependent on my ability to come up with twelve mostly legal activities, of course. So the comments section is wide open. Read/Post Comments (8) Previous Entry :: Next Entry Back to Top