I should just rename this blog to “Emily’s 30 Before 30 IRL.” Well, whatever. Nine-and-a-half months and I turn thirty. (Heh. Then it will be all about the 40 Before 40, which won’t be so easily attainable. Just you wait.)
Anyway, if you’ve been keeping up with the original post, you’ll notice that I’ve crossed a bunch of the smaller items off without really reporting on them. So that’s what this is all about: a summary of the Lesser 30 Before 30 (including a night I’d rather forget).
The Time I Tried Pork Rinds
Actually, I tried them a couple of times. The first was when they came on my taco while visiting Kansas City post-Christmas. But I didn’t really get a good taste for them, so I decided it didn’t truly count. Then, at our parish’s Chili Cookoff (I got second place! I got second place!) the winning chili had a bunch of optional add-ins, including pork rinds. So I stole a couple for my plate and tried them.
The verdict: meh. They were okay, but they tasted a little bit rancid, actually. I’m not sure I’d eat a whole bag of them. So I guess it’s a good thing I got a taste of them in a safe place, without having to feel obligated to finish a jumbo ton of them.
A jumbo ton? Clearly I’ve already my brainpower has already been tapped out today. Moving along!
The Time I Ate a Whole Pint of Ice Cream in One Sitting
Ugh. Porker much, Em? It was last Tuesday. I was depressed because my old, angry relative Aunt Flo had just decided to drop in unexpectedly, six days early. What? (Doesn’t do much good for #30 on the list, just sayin’.) So I wanted beer, I wanted ice cream, and I wanted Netflix. And that’s just what I gave myself.
No, I didn’t suffer an unbearable attack of lactose intolerance. That happened yesterday, for some reason, when I got a blended root beer float at the new burger joint downtown. (Seriously, body? What’s up?) No, I just ate that ice cream, and at some point it wasn’t even tasty, but I was so close to attaining the 30 Before 30 Prizegoal that I finished it off.
Never doing that again. And speaking of things I’m never doing again…
That Time I Drank a Lot of Wine, Tried To Watch a Lot of Netflix, and Then Went to Taco Bell for Breakfast the Next Day
This is the one I’d rather forget. How stupid is it to drink an entire bottle of wine in one night? Answer: very. I had the evening to myself though, so I thought, “Hey! Why not have some fun and knock it out?”
There were pictures. Videos, too. But then my computer up ‘n’ died on me (er, I killed it) and they were lost to the Data Gods. Which is okay. A summary of my night: I drank a lot, didn’t feel too much more than very drunk, quit my Netflix binge of Jane the Virgin early, and went to bed. Somewhere around 2 a.m. I woke up feeling very ill. But my body didn’t even let me puke, so I fell asleep on the bathroom floor. I know. I am a terrible alcoholic. I think that’s a good thing.
Anyway, the next morning I don’t even think there was a hangover. I just felt really, really sick to my stomach and still a little tipsy. It took me ages to get out to Taco Bell, but finally I did, because I promised myself I would get breakfast. I ordered like, some biscuit breakfast taco. It wasn’t even good. The end. Never again.
My Etsy Shop
Here it is. I opened it at the end of December, mildly publicized it, and actually got some orders! Nothing to write home about. Maybe enough to fund a dinner at Applebees, if you’re on a budget. But I got some orders, and like, one or two from people I didn’t know! So heck yes. Off. Da. List.
Anyway. So that’s that. I think I’ve written about everything now. It’s February today, which means that I have, yes, nine-and-a-half months to cross off the remaining eighteen items. Three of those I’m working steadily towards, day by day. Two of those, I’m not sure my heart is in anymore, so they might actually change. One of those might have to shift over to Forty Before Forty. One of those is essentially finished. Two of those will be easy-peasy.
Insert concluding paragraph here. Let’s see. Just, you know. Stay tuned, okay? Good things are coming this year. In the form of soufflés, macarons, and cheesecakes. Yassssss.