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 31, 2007
DAY 122  |  May 31, 2007
Um, I think I look about as bad as I feel. Itís hour sixteen of my flight back to New York, and the guy on the other side of me has been projectile puking since take off. As if trying to sleep sitting up and being bored out of mind without any good reading material to pass the time wasnít torture enough, now I have to breathe through my mouth to block the stench of vomit. I feel bad for him, but I feel bad for me too. Are we there yet?!
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