I decided to opt out of my bowl of cereal dinner routine for my last meal as a 24 year old, and classed it up with a pasta/sausage/veggie medley. I'd like to think I was loading up on all my carbs, proteins, vitamins and minerals in preparation for drinking, dancing, and all around shenanigans later that evening. I must have done something right, because I woke up the following morning SANS hangover (although those 8 cups of water and late night turkey sandwich might have had something to do with it...)

Breakfast of (25 year old) champions. Post saturday night shambles, myself and 4 other friends headed for a celebratory brunch, complete with homemade chocolate cake topped with sparkler candles, sprinkles, and an always embarrassing round of public happy birthday singing

My last hurrah as a 24 year old took a turn for the worse when a party guest teetered off his bar stool and landed on my foot. Not just any foot, my right foot of das boot fame. The very same foot that I broke some 2 years ago under an amplifier gone rogue. I woke up Sunday morning to a grotesquely swollen, bruised and sore foot. Needless to say, my afternoon plans of strolling the streets and trawling thrift store aisles in all my wise and bargain saavy 25 year old glory were shot. With a little help from HGTV, houseguests, rest, ice and elevation, not even a gimpy foot could put a damper on my bday.

No hard feelings 25. I know were going to have a great year together.