Welcome to Life After College [Twenty-Something Rules]

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Twenty-Something Rules-2

If you’re anything like me, you’d much rather be alone, horizontal and populating your bed with chocolate crumbles, closing out another season of Modern Family, trying to forget that the last time you went on Spring Break you weren’t even of legal drinking age.

Hi, I’m a passionate, though sometimes faltering, twenty-something.

Ever since I graduated college — okay, don’t be scared — four years ago, I’ve written a book (that I now hate, and so it sits in my closet), became a flight attendant, traveled to Europe, fell in love, stayed in love, quit my “dream job” in Advertising, got a new dream job in “…Advertising”, lived alone in my first apartment, celebrated best friend’s engagements and found out I adore the taste of olives.

A lot can happen in four years. Hell, a lot can happen in a month. That’s why I wanted to take what I’ve learned throughout my twenty-something years and share my favorite tidbits with you. Each Friday, I’ll be sharing 7 of my self-created rules for you to follow. Or you don’t have to follow them, you rebellious kitty cat, you.

Before you read, please note this: I am kind of an idiot sometimes. I let emotions get in the way of practicality, and do not have the capacity for lady-knowledge like my mother does. But I’m a huge advocate for learning from each other. So hopefully, you can learn a little from me.

From one twenty-something to another, let’s reflect.

Rule 1: There are no rules.

Being 20-something is complicated. It’s rusty. A messy, unmade bed. We’re obsessed with thinking about where our life is going to end up. Our Pinterest boards certainly won’t refute that. I’ve been planning my wedding since I was 18. Just remember, no matter what you’re doing when you’re 20-something, it’s valuable. You don’t need that “perfect” job right away and you don’t need to stress about what everyone else is doing. Just worry about you. And the last time you pooped. Two days ago?!? That’s just not healthy.

Rule 2: Be happy to date the imperfect man. The perfect one may be a murderer.

Ever since I was a girl (my whole life), I’ve dreamed about the perfect man. You know, the one that has a bushel of flowers waiting for you after a tough day. The one who calls you every night, showers you with compliments and agrees with you. It’s not always going to go down like that, sista. Accept imperfections in relationships; we are humans. The only perfect people are acting flawless to be passive aggressive and murder you later.

Rule 3: Try to make college the only time you’re legally homeless.

College is special. It’s that dreamy place where it’s perfectly acceptable to roam around in ankle elastic sweatpants and UGG boots, sleep in until noon and nap again at 3. You take pulls of cheap vodka and get so drunk you think it’s Y2K and hide under your loft bed until morning. The only money you have to your name is your “high school grad party funds” and you’re consistently falling under debt. The thing is, it’s one tier away from actually being homeless. Enjoy it. Revel in it. Soon, it will be unacceptable.

Rule 4: Whatever you do, stay away from pregnancy portraits.

Let’s be honest. No one likes to see a freeze-frame of that repulsing, tender moment a man cradles a woman’s exposed belly and remembers the sweet, last moment he came inside of her.

Rule 5: Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. You’re the sixth Pussycat Doll after three vodka tonics.

We’ve all been there; that waxy feeling three drinks deep while you’re waltzing to the dance floor. Don’t let anyone tell you it’s not OK to truly believe your moves and slightly violent hair flips aren’t pop princess approved.

Rule 6: It’s OK to be annoyed by Jennifer Love Hewitt and not know why.

Common, she totally funnels her own farts.

Rule 7: Can’t have a conversation with anyone ages 3 through 9? Let it be.

My six-year-old cousin asked me the other day if I was pregnant. I won’t speak with her anymore, and I’m still working on ignoring eye contact with kids until I’m a mother.

Read more rules at Brittany Chaffee’s blog, 365 Days of 20-something.

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