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 March 31, 2007
DAY 61  |  March 31, 2007
I’ve found me a pirate! This is my kayaking partner, Chris, who helped me paddle back from the campground in Abel Tasman National Park. It took us about five hours, but we stopped for a picnic lunch on the beach (and to periodically splash water on Jen and Amanda with our oars). He’s from England and is traveling with his two “mates” for a year (fellow Lost Boys!). We paddled along and talked about all the places we’ve been and how our travel-lust list just grows longer—not shorter—the more countries we visit.

He asked where we were staying tonight, and I said I had no idea. So he suggested we crash at a lodge near the park where a pirate-themed party was happening. The girls and I pulled together whatever pirate attire we could find in our backpacks, tying scarves around our heads and drawing skull-and-crossbones tattoos on our arms with black eyeliner. Too bad I look more like I belong on a Richard Simmons workout video than sailing the Seven Seas. Oh well, I’m always up for a party. And when you’ve got no agenda, anything can happen.

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