35 Is the New 35
Rarely do I find a blog I get excited about. Don't get me wrong, I skim through what seems like hundreds of feeds every day (and then hit another slew of e-commerce/internet marketing ones for what I’m actually being paid to do all day) and I wouldn't if I didn't find them enjoyable. They just don't always speak to me; I don't shop at greenmarkets, eat cupcakes or hot dogs, I've only eaten at Momofuku Ssam once (Ko once, too, I guess) and don't attend Brooklyn cook offs. I like to eat, though.
I also like to drink and I loathe being the oldest lady in the room. Single women in their mid-30s should not be made to feel elderly (and if I hear one more woman in the age range of Drew Barrymore being referred to as a Cougar I will claw their eyes out like a real wildcat). I will neither rub shoulders in frat holes or with kids wearing '80s accoutrements, nor resign myself to Brooklyn happy hours surrounded by toddler-toters.