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 April 12, 2007
DAY 73  |  April 12, 2007
We have arrived in Oz. Simone and her friend, Georgia, welcomed us by taking us for dinner and drinks. Sweet as! This is actually a Kiwi term, meaning something like “Right on!”

The first time I heard the slang phrase back in New Zealand, I thought the guy who I’d asked for directions was saying “sweet ass.” I was like, “Thank you very much.” It wasn’t until later when a girl directed the same phrase at me that I asked for clarification. “Excuse me, but what did you say?”

“Sweet as!,” she repeated.

“Um, could you spell that?” She looked at me like I was nuts before obliging. Man, here I was thinking all the Kiwis thought I had a sweet ass. Oh well—at least it’s easy enough to blame misunderstandings on cultural barriers. I better enjoy it while it lasts, because this excuse definitely won’t fly when I’m back home.

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