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 May 26, 2007
DAY 117  |  May 26, 2007
It’s the last supper! Well, at least it is at our pal Simone’s apartment. Tomorrow we’re moving to a hostel in the city so we have more space for the four of us to sleep, and Simone insisted on making us a home-cooked meal. She says she wants to be a “yummy mummy,” as sexy Australian housewives like to call themselves.

I should have been born a dude because the way to my heart is definitely through my stomach. After chowing on Simone’s juicy roast chicken, broiled pumpkin wedges and stewed veggies, I was ready to get down on one knee. Tonight’s dinner was one of the best home-cooked meals I’ve ever had the privilege of inhaling (except, of course, for yours Mom!).

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