Watch Me Turn 30, by Holly C.
I'm a 29-year-old New Yorker who inherited this site from my pal, Holly P., to document the final year of my twenties. Right up until I turn the big 3-0 next January, I'll use this blog to indulge my inner-narcissist by voicing the good (I can date men anywhere from ages 21 to 50 without it being scandalous) the bad (I keep getting ma'amed) and the ugly (is it possible to get cellulite on your stomach?!). Here's to waving goodbye to my youth, accepting adulthood and remembering that every ending is really just a new beginning.
the photo for February 25, 2007
DAY 27  |  February 25, 2007
One of my goals for this year on the road is to read all the books I never had time to when I was toiling away at my desk. And while finishing just a single book in a month is more than I ever accomplished during my office days, it’s amazing how I can keep myself too busy to digest a paperback even without a set agenda. Seriously, I’m the busiest backpacker on the road who doesn’t actually have anything she HAS to do.

Here’s how I fill my time: I wake up and go for a run, or try to find a yoga class. I eat breakfast in a café and write in my journal or shoot the shit with the girls, chattering on for hours as if we don’t spend every waking minute together. (Here’s a sample conversation starter we’ve actually asked each other: “If you could have a superpower, would you choose to be invisible or be able to fly and why?”) Then I walk into an Internet café with the intention of spending 15 minutes checking my email only to emerge three hours later after Skyping my family and catching up on travel blogs. On the way back to my hostel, I tend to get distracted by all the cool new things to look at (The shops! The people! The magazines!) By now it’s time for dinner (Geez, I didn’t even eat lunch). What about those lazy days spent reading?

Since I was a solo traveler this week, I found a quiet spot on the beach, spread out my towel and read for an entire, blissful day. And I finished Freakonomics in one sitting—well worth the read, by the way. I forgot how much I love getting lost in a good book.

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