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 27, 2007
DAY 241  |  September 27, 2007
I felt like I was moving through quicksand today. I couldnít get anything done at the office, and all I wanted to do was curl up in a little ball and sleep for a million years. I tried to take a power yoga class after work to wake me up, but it was more of a torturous hour of gentle stretching and heavy breathing. I left class feeling like I wanted to cry, and then came home and devoured all the chocolate I could find (which is no small amount because I always have a stash for emergencies). See this bag of chocolate and nuts? It used to be full, but I downed most of it in about, oh, ten minutes.

Why the heck do I feel this way? Am I depressed? Do I have a chemical imbalance? Am I doing something wrong with my life?

Oh wait, I forgotóIím not crazy, Iím just PMSing. And for all the men out there who think otherwise, itís not all in our headsóitís a real thing that god blessed us with once a month for about thirty years of our adult lives. Awesome.

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