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 September 18, 2007
DAY 232  |  September 18, 2007
This gray hair is taunting me! Everyday when I look in the bathroom mirror at work, the silvery little strand springs from the crown of my head, shimmering in the fluorescent light. I try to yank it out quickly before any of my coworkers catch me in the act, but the annoyingly conspicuous, slippery little sucker stubbornly stays put.

That is, until I return to the privacy of my home, armed with its tool of destruction: my trusty tweezers. Iíll carefully part my hair, anticipating the pleasure Iíll get once Iím finally free of this tormentor. But each night it retreats into hiding under my dark locks. Now Iím back in the office and here it is, right in plain sight. Is this some kind of sick joke? Itís like the gods are laughing at me by giving me grays that that I canít even pull out.

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