Watch Me Turn 30, by Holly C.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
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 March 18, 2007
DAY 48  |  March 18, 2007
Thereís nothing like working off the Baileys Irish Cream and barbequed sausage from a Saint Patrick's Day celebration like a 10-mile run the next morning. Yes, I am slightly crazy.

When Wendy adopted The Lost Girls and let us crash at her house, she suggested we participate in a race around Aucklandís bays. Being an avid runner, I was all game. I didnít let a pounding head stop me from sweating out the previous nightís indulgences as I jogged alongside hung-over Irishmen and teetotalers alike. I try to stay true to my motto: Work hard, play hard.

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