The Perils Of 30
MIMI Lifestyle
Written By: Mimi Tsiane
Photo Credits: None
Caption: None
.
The day before my 30th and I was packing for my trip to Las Vegas. Many have travelled to the city of ill-repute for nights of
debauchery, alcohol fueled romps, gambling parties and even ill-advised trips to the chapel of love. Not I; I was going to Las Vegas
to usher in a new era: 30.
.
A week before his 30th, my friend decided he needed space from his wife, his three month old daughter, his job, and his entire life.
He stopped answering his wretched phone, hauled all his belongings to a motel including a newly purchased satellite dish (evidently
he became vindictive too) and put a wrench all up girlfriends’ plans. Holed up in a seedy motel he called me to whine about his
nagging wife, his hysterical child, and his abusive boss. Being the voice of reason I told him to return the satellite dish; it was the
least he could do.
A few months before her 30th birthday my girlfriend barged out of the closet and renounced heterosexuality; surprising all the joy out
her husband. Well, I think he knew. I mean, for the past five years my girlfriend and I had frequented all the gay festivities and
proudly adorned matching rainbow colored bracelets, tee-shirts, hats, scarves, you name it; it had a rainbow. I am not gay (well, not
yet) but I am truly conceited and love the attention from both males and females; so I happily tagged along. Oh yeah; I also went to
support my friend and gay rights.
On her 30th birthday my cousin announced that she wanted to try the marriage thing. Her prospect: a travelling salesman based in
South Africa, who may or may not have three children, and who may or may not be divorced. She met him in May or March—the
phone line was really bad so I am not sure. My cousin is a true romantic and addicted to drama.
MIMI Lifestyle
Written By: Mimi Tsiane
Photo Credits: None
Caption: None
.
The day before my 30th and I was packing for my trip to Las Vegas. Many have travelled to the city of ill-repute for nights of
debauchery, alcohol fueled romps, gambling parties and even ill-advised trips to the chapel of love. Not I; I was going to Las Vegas
to usher in a new era: 30.
.
A week before his 30th, my friend decided he needed space from his wife, his three month old daughter, his job, and his entire life.
He stopped answering his wretched phone, hauled all his belongings to a motel including a newly purchased satellite dish (evidently
he became vindictive too) and put a wrench all up girlfriends’ plans. Holed up in a seedy motel he called me to whine about his
nagging wife, his hysterical child, and his abusive boss. Being the voice of reason I told him to return the satellite dish; it was the
least he could do.
A few months before her 30th birthday my girlfriend barged out of the closet and renounced heterosexuality; surprising all the joy out
her husband. Well, I think he knew. I mean, for the past five years my girlfriend and I had frequented all the gay festivities and
proudly adorned matching rainbow colored bracelets, tee-shirts, hats, scarves, you name it; it had a rainbow. I am not gay (well, not
yet) but I am truly conceited and love the attention from both males and females; so I happily tagged along. Oh yeah; I also went to
support my friend and gay rights.
On her 30th birthday my cousin announced that she wanted to try the marriage thing. Her prospect: a travelling salesman based in
South Africa, who may or may not have three children, and who may or may not be divorced. She met him in May or March—the
phone line was really bad so I am not sure. My cousin is a true romantic and addicted to drama.
