Twenty-five. Half-way to fifty. Quarter of a century. No matter how you say it, it sounds old. But I still got asked for ID three times this past week, so I’m stoked!
I remember when I was younger I used to think I’d be nearly getting married and settling down by the time I hit 25. But I was juvenile. Now that I’m a grown up at the ripe old age of 25 my senses have cleared up and I know I’m still, yes even at 25, way too young for all that shite!
It’s been a big year for me; newly single, new job, lost 24kgs and re-entered the dating scene (God! that’s been fantastic entertainment).
Last night a bunch of my nearest and dearest’s joined me in celebrating in what my “friend” labeled my OTH party. Over. The. Hill. He’s an asswipe (and only 23, damn youngins)! Because clearly an OTH party doesn’t happen until you hit 40, or for me it’ll be 50+. So we started off in the bar I had originally booked until through the grapevine we heard that the party in the bar next door with free food(!!), drinks(!!!!!), a live band(!!!!) and a flame thrower (I don’t actually remember seeing him?) was looking for extra party guests as their numbers were dwindling. So we jumped ship. The live band was fantastic and apparently my crowd managed to drink the bar out of champagne and punch. We’re classy, I know. My sister told me this morning that she had friends of mine coming up to her saying, “wow, Bronnie is amazing with this catering, free drinks and all the decorations!”. My sister just smiled and replied with “yeah, isn’t she awesome?!”. Ha! Love her. I will have to set the record straight at some stage… well if any of them ask me directly.
So here’s to year number 25, it’s been fantastic and I’m hoping like hell this year is going to be even more amazing and full of amsuing moments!