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 29, 2007
DAY 304  |  November 29, 2007
I was on the East Coast for just two days before turning around and flying to Arizona with Amanda for a press trip to the Marriott Desert Ridge Resort and Spa and Camelback Inn near Scottsdale. We went to a reception by the spa pool when we arrived and sipped prickly pear martinis. Then a young up-and-coming chef named Brian invited Amanda, her sister (who conveniently lives nearby in Phoenix) and myself to the hotelís Italian restaurant to try his tasting menu.

I can honestly say that I have never had a better meal in my life. He cooked up calamari wrapped in prosciutto, fig-filled raviolis and hazelnut tiramisu so delicious I knew that if I died right that moment, my life would be complete.

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