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 July 24, 2007
DAY 176  |  July 24, 2007
My first years in New York City involved living in a cramped railroad apartment on the Upper East Side with two girlfriends from grad school. You’d never catch me boarding a train for Brooklyn back then—it seemed like a whole other country.

But somehow E convinced me to make the move, and now I’ll never go back. Brooklyn is a whole other country—and I love every part of it. The pace is just a little slower, the occupants a little quirkier, the community a little closer (people on the block actually greet me by name). So I’m trying to convert my Manhattan-loving pals to cross the line by organizing dinner in Williamsburg. Once they get a feel for, I bet they’ll take the bait.

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