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 August 19, 2007
DAY 202  |  August 19, 2007
My Uncle Frank came to visit because he might be moving to Brooklyn to work at Downstate Medical Center. I took him right to the heart of the hipster scene: The live concerts happening inside the enormous, empty pool in McCarren Park every Sunday. Skinny-jean wearing twenty-somethings lounged on blow-up chairs with cups of Brooklyn Ale. I must admit, I was pleasantly surprised that my uncle seemed to dig the electric guitars and was completely comfortable rocking out with the crowd despite the drizzly, damp weather. He reminded me that I’m in charge of my own good times—every situation can be a blast if you just keep an open mind and always look for the bright side.
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