I was born on Friday the 13th as you know, which makes 13 my official lucky number. (I also maintain that it prevents me from being affected by any other unlucky superstitions. Black cats? More like rainbows. Walking under ladders? One of my favorite pastimes. Broken mirror? Like winning the lottery.)
I realized on Wed., Oct. 13, that I have just 13 months left in my 20s. For the math deficient, that means the big 2-9 is coming up in a little under a month. If you know BAA, you know I’ve been planning the epic party for ages. Hello, 12-hour birthday extravaganzas do not just plan themselves.
Details to come…
Taking the Train to NYC
2 hours ago