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 January 27, 2008
DAY 363  |  January 27, 2008
A word to the wise: Destroy any incriminating photos of yourself that you would never want your co-workers, cute members of the opposite sex, or any friends you met after, oh, 1999, to examine. I know, this is coming from a girl who snaps a picture of herself every day for a year.

But my sisters got a good laugh by putting this poster of my life on display, complete with a baby photo illustrating how my butt was too fat to fit in bikini bottoms, as well as a shot of me at a high-school dance sporting bangs that look like a sausage-curl and a gold-lamae bubble dress (I donít even think it was in style back then).

Oh well. One of my main goals for partying like a twenty-something was to stay up all night to watch the sun rise. Well, I didnít quite make itóthough I did do a single shot around 2 a.m. after my guests kept commenting that I was way too sober for my birthday. Then I called it a night. Itís official: Iím ready to leave my 20s behindÖ

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