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 November 15, 2007
DAY 290  |  November 15, 2007
Stephen Bailey, also a fellow blogger and former Woman’s Day employee, has made it his duty to organize a weekly happy hour. I love this ritual because it makes meeting up with friends that I normally might not see for months a regular habit.

This week he chose Samovar, a Russian bar in midtown, where we sipped apple-cinnamon and jalapeño-pepper flavored vodka (yes, the latter was gross!) and watched the gray-haired Russian men turn from solemn-faced to boisterous with the more liquid that they consumed. Ah, only in Manhattan could you feel like you could be transported to almost any continent without having to set foot on a plane.

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