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 April 29, 2007
DAY 90  |  April 29, 2007
It's no secret that one of the many reasons I love Oz is that this place is crawling with hospitable types who are happy to act as our tour guide (God love him!). And now we've found someone to act as our personal chauffeur. I met this firefighter named Adam on the plane ride to Sydney, and took him up on his invitation to show us around the Blue Mountains. After mentioning what a bad driver I was when we rolled up in our crazy-colored van, he offered to take the wheel. Iím not sure if his motivation stemmed more from kindness or concern for his own safety, but I was thrilled to let someone else be in the driverís seat for awhile.

In typical laid-back Aussie fashion, Adam didnít seem phased when the three of us chattered nonstop, needed to take bathroom breaks every five minutes (we have small bladders!) or freaked out when we spotted kangaroos in the national park. Yes, he was a very good sport. If you want to spy the Ďroos for yourself, click on this link to see a video that I took:

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