Saturday, August 4, 2012

Another Year

So I guess I'm 22 or whatever. There's something oddly unsettling about it, despite the fact that its a nice round, symmetrical number. But it's weird because like, is this still my early 20's or do I start panicking that I'm in the thick of the decade and not living it to the fullest yet? Is it too early to get started on my quarter life crisis? Because, let me tell you, I already have worries lined up and things are next to grim (because I am nothing if not dramatic).

You know how you always have that moment at every birthday where you kick back and reflect on your year, only to realize things don't feel that different? I mean that's total bullshit on my end this year, considering in the last few months alone, I've graduated college and moved from my family home in the Chicago suburbs to New York. But then you think about how you are still socially inept and a total newborn baby when thrown into grown up situations and you still have absolutely no idea how to meet people or date or put your mouth on other people's mouths.


At age 22, my mom married my dad. At age 22, my grandma was raising my already 2-year-old dad. And I definitely don't want to be married with babies any time soon, but it's certainly an odd perspective. I'm just a baby! How on earth would people my age ever understand relationships enough to be that deep in them?? But at the same time, I should probably be figuring it out now, right?

I have always felt comforted by Tina Fey's admittance that her v-card (now that I've said that, I want to abolish the phrase and never let any other human use it again, dear God forgive me) wasn't lost until age 24. But her book still told stories of making out with boys at other ages. Even young Greek-unibrow-sporting Tina Fey had some dudes willing to stick their tongues in her mouth.


Why is making out a thing? Who decided that transferring germs via saliva was a romantic, sexy thing to do? Who was the first person to be like, "Hey, I am turned on as fuck right now, open your mouth so I can lick the inside of it"??

Why is it the focus on my birthday post...? I feel that focus has been lost.

Ah, well. 21 did not seem to be the year where alcohol turned me into a sexually liberated free spirit. So I don't think 22 will be either. I guess that's probably for the best; I have too many Japanese candy videos to watch on YouTube.

And this isn't even touching any career/future anxiety.

Birthdays can kind of be the worst. Thank God for presents.


  1. Number 1: Happy birthday!

    Number 2: I can definitely picture curling up on the couch and reading a whole book you have written once you are a famous sitcom-writing funny lady. Until then, I will just enjoy this blog for as long as you decide to write it :)

  2. Happy birthday! You're only a few months into your post-grad years ... I don't think it's time to panic yet. :)

    I really like the blog idea, by the way. Good to see you writing more.