I turned 21 yesterday. By legal standards, I’m a grown up. But most importantly, I’m officially in the era of the twenty somethings.

Yes, I know guys. Another Carrie Bradshaw reference.

I kicked off this milestone with some serious adult-like self reflection and an SATC episode. I noticed something – Carrie Bradshaw and her three always referred to anyone under thirty with disdain. It’s not my fault that a twenty-something stole her man and one of Samantha’s summer Hampton events! But I digress.

She’s said many things about the twenty-somethings – our twenties are for having fun, messing up, getting toasted, living fully and learning plenty.

I’m kind of afraid, though. Sort of like throwback first-day-of-school-anticipation. Even though you already knew what class you’d be in and you attended the sneak-a-peek the previous week, you still had all these questions. Where will I sit? Who will I eat with at lunch? Will I ever get picked for Student of the Week? So stressful! Read More »

Dear Engaged Friends,

So, congratulations! Have you picked a date? Done the dress shopping? Gone cake tasting? Picked the esteemed members of your bridal party? Great! So if we could take a minute to shift the focus over to me? Yeah.

You’re freaking me out.

Early, early, early 20s are not a time when the general “you” should be worried about marriage, especially when I can’t even decide whether I want to go to grad school or work or what. And yet, you’re kind of making me think I should be worried. I mean, isn’t everybody in the dating game right now, yourselves excluded? Aren’t most pople our age single? Don’t you know that marriage is supposed to be forever and divorces are really expensive and, frankly, so are weddings (especially on the east coast—eep)?

And also, are you going to get all judgy all of a sudden? I’m still the delinquent “single friend” who can’t land a boyfriend for more than a couple months at a shot, I have no life direction as yet (but we’re hoping, any day now, for an epiphany)… Are you going to keep giving me that “I’m judging you without trying to seem that way” look while continually asking how my dating life is going? Because I can tell you already: I’m really not going to meet anyone anytime soon. I’m pretty sure I’m bad at the dating game and I probably can’t even find someone to commit to being my date at your wedding to keep me from looking as alone and pathetic as I apparently am…

No, it’s fine. I’ll be at the bar, don’t worry about it.

Wait; you are having an open bar, aren’t you? Read More »

[Read Day One HERE]

Maybe it’s not the nights that will get me, but rather the entire days. This morning I read the newspaper (again), and I can’t decide if I feel 55 and retired, or 15 with a current event quiz looming.

I did get some comforting feedback from this little “project” today though, by a few friends who I met for lunch, informing me that maybe I am not the only romance addict out there — that maybe it’s an entire generation of twenty-somethings raised on Disney movies, and coming of age with hundreds of rom-coms (romantic comedies). While it is encouraging to hear I am not alone in this thought process, I would like to ask, is everyone else as hung up on this stuff as I am? (seriously, looking for feedback here…)

I have been able to hold out strong thus far, though, it was my trip to the gym where I was really shaken. I love going to the gym; since I don’t have cable I usually can catch up on a few terrible/wonderful (depending on if you are honest enough to admit you watch them) shows while working out. Read More »

Recently, some friends of mine have diagnosed themselves as lactose intolerant. One realized that milk in her coffee could result in hours of pain, the other was a lapsed vegan and spent an evening in the fetal position after reintroducing dairy to her routine. We went for frozen yogurt on a perfect May Saturday, and after her first bite of her tiny cup of Tasti D, she sighed. “It’s sooo good, but it’s going to hurt so much later. Can’t believe I forgot my Lactaid.”

As I took another bite of my own frozen yogurt, I couldn’t help but feel guilty for suggesting ice cream. She had only mentioned it in passing once, and I had completely forgotten about her allergy. Read More »