I waver between feeling like I want to hurl and being really excited when I think about turning 30 this August. I’m excited because I feel like I liiiiived in my twenties, and am sure I can do even more in my 30s, since I have a little more cash and am a tad less moronic. But still, 30. How did this happen? Have I really been on planet earth for almost 30 years? It all went by so fast!
As I’m not one for big birthday parties, I’ve decided I want to be doing something really zany when I hit the big 3-0. This will either be climbing Mount Kilimanjaro or grappling to Base Camp One of Everest. I’m leaning towards Everest. I mean, the highest mountain in the world?
While I now have a desk job and report on high society, I used to live a rather different life. One of a filthy curious gypsy. This existence really flourished when I traveled with my partner in ridiculousness Mary-Alice, from Hong Kong to Paris overland. The highlight of this trip, besides managing to escape jail time, was our romp through Mongolia with two Dutchmen and a Scot. We met them on the train from Beijing to Ulan Bataar and decided to join forces through Mongolia’s enormous countryside.
It was nothing short of amazing. They were cute, hysterical, and could carry the really heavy stuff. It was a group marriage made in heaven. And what a country to be in. If you ever find yourself marooned in Central Asia, go to Mongolia. Say Karin sent you. You’ll have the most wonderful trip, but not as good as mine. Unless you can wrangle the best traveling buddies on the planet – Toine, Rik, Gregor and the fabulous Poop McPoopface Mary-Alice.