Good evening my waffles, Lauralee Bell is speaking to you.
Ay, after 23 the 24 and 25 , which does not really traumatized me or left a lasting impression, there is, my pike dumplings: they 11.1.11 is the symbolic date. The date reserved for the reductions under 25 are terminated and where my purchasing power will drastically reduce (he was just really need, want). 26 years of age is a bit rotten, actually. Finished the bloom of youth, finished the first half of the twenties, finished the quarter century (welcome to the second quarter, bitch), finished the courses, studies, which are cooked on weekdays rises fresh the next day morning. In short, welcome to the no man's land between the ages sound younger (20 - 21 - 22) and age whom the bell tolls (30). An age that does not mean much, which does not define the turbulent youth and the real skin aging (Note to self: invest [finally] in an anti-wrinkle, no complex).
Still, we're not going to complain. When I look at the dirty feeling that I had left in 2009 and its very disappointing 24 years, I can watch the 25 years that I leave behind me calmly, and even a tad nostalgic. It must be said that it has started badly, it got worse and worse and worse yet, before bouncing higher than before. The year of my 25 years (hence my twenty-sixth year, if you've always) (I know you hate it when I make this precise) is a bit, in Parisian life I lead willy-nilly for almost three years (three years, the cow), the equivalent of a comeback for Britney Spears in 2008: we no longer believed, and yet we did it! Moreover, to celebrate, this crane Britney has decided to release his new sinegueule a little while pourrave battery for my birthday (she texted me yesterday to tell me that it was a jar of wine personally for my lovely face, for me to stop talking about Lady Gaga).
All that to say that as each year comes the time for assessment of age (or year) that goes away, and prepare the ground psychotic mental age ahead. And this year, and it goes bah. It was a little roller coaster, but for now we can say that it ends like a Disney movie. No luck, however: as everyone knows, life does not stop (evil) fortunately not in this current boom period. But 2010 and 25 had started so badly and were eventually pinned so that 2011 and 26 years can only look at the musical explosion of Susan Boyle (bare) (all cover!), Right?
It's beautiful, I became optimistic ( "You can always dream, yeah!" ). Go to my 26 years, I become pop queen, I try to cross my concierge to find her head and yelled to the corridor when the bulb is broken , and j 'try to spend more than two consecutive days off in Paris. Say what you want, but as Madonna and gyms cellulitées for Mexican, I really grandiose plans when I get older.
So without regret: bye-bye 25, it was nice, we keep in touch and we remember, eh, and back up, 26, I'll eat.
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