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 22, 2007
DAY 297  |  November 22, 2007
My idea of hell is having a stomach bug on Thanksgiving day. Why, God, why? Bryantís brother and sister-in-law made the most delicious roasted turkey, Italian-sausage stuffing, cinnamon-infused sweet potatoes and creamy crŤme brulee. I wanted to dive in until I was in a food coma as is my usual Thanksgiving fashion, but had to pace myself as my stomach cramped up.

Still, I couldnít help but be distracted from my illness while I watched in awe as my host and hostess did their thing: they decorated the table with home-made, orchard-adorned center pieces, were vigilant about filling wine glasses and could actually hold a relaxed conversation while they basted the turkey. Geez, I canít even flip burgers at a barbecue without getting all frazzled. I think some people are just gifted with the entertaining gene, and, unfortunately, I donít think that Iím one of them.

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