Hey guys! 


So I’m joining the blogging scene again, lol.  Really, right now my life doesn’t have a theme or common thread or anything like that that would make for a good focus for a blog.  I’m not a trendy mom raising her “littles” in NYC (first and weirdly specific example—can you tell that I follow some of these types..?) or an avid foodie that spends the time, money, and calories to explore the Brooklyn food scene (I also lack the serious know-how, otherwise I’d most likely do that), or some chick that knows how to do hair and makeup really well/can throw a killer party and tell you how.  Nope.  I’m a post-grad 22-year-old working 9-5 in a job that kind of just fell into my lap and spending 4 hours on the train commuting from home so I can do it.  My nights are mostly filled with Netflix and half-hearted attempts to get good at running (free access to a treadmill helps, chocolate cravings and lack of energy hurt) and most of my home friends have moved to foreign countries or are living with their boyfriends and have jobs in places that may as well be foreign countries cause they’re too far to hang out with me.  And all of my college friends are obviously scattered.  It’s all really very exciting!  So, walking to work this morning, with a foggy brain that had not yet felt the effects of a morning coffee, I could think of no other format for a blog than the generic “how-to” post. 

How-to.  You need some kind of expertise/know-how for that.  I’m not an expert on anything besides personal milk-to-coffee ratio preferences and half-ass-ing my hair jusssst enough to look good for the office (possible related how-to: how-to wear a pencil skirt that’s too big so it gives the vague impression that you’re pregnant when you’re, in fact, not).  Phhp.  How-to.  Can anyone else really tell other people how to do anything? 


Right now there are about a billion (rough estimate) little how- to internet blurbs floating around telling us twenty-somethings “how you should really be living your twenties!!!” and “600 things you didn’t know about being in your twenties!” and, my favorite, “the most depressing, awful things about being in your twenties!” Sounds like a gas.  Basically, they’re all either telling us what we already know (being in your twenties is hard, man, harder than people like to let on) or what isn’t actually true.  As a 22-year-old, I have little authority on what is and is not true about “someone in their twenties,” seeing as I am kind of new to this much talked about period in a person’s life, but there are just some things that I know are not true, at least for myself. 


Which IS THE KEY.  We’re not all the same, people.  Sure, we’re all struggling (yes, ALL OF US, you with the sweet job out there and awesome boyfriend/girlfriend, whoever you are, maybe you found a fly in your soup recently or something? I don’t know).  But we’re not all gonna approach our twenties in the same way.  For instance, one of those blurb-y things (yea, I read most of the ones I come across, mostly so I can come here and criticize them!!! Kidding, but yes I read them) told me this once:

You WILL wonder what other people are making and you WILL be jealous of those who are making a %&^#-ton of money.  Sorry bout it.


Really?  Well, if I hadn’t thought of that before, now I am thinking about it.  Wait, people are making more than me?  Does that mean that they can afford that pair of high-waisted black jeans from Urban, and pair them with a sweet pair of booties too?!?! Dang it.  Am I doing something wrong then?  Should I be looking for another job?  Am I smart enough to ever be able to make that much money?


Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP.  First of all, you never really cared about the money in the first place (if you’re like me I guess).  Don’t get me WRONG.  It’s good to make money and be self-sufficient.  It also means that you can buy food, which keeps you alive! But money is not the only thing, and it’s not the thing by which you should be gauging your success and general happiness.  Cause, as we all know from the movies and stuff, that never works.


Anyway, I feel like our generation (yea, I said “our generation,” barf.  Almost as generic as saying “Well it’s society that really makes us…”  Who is “society?” Stop talking like that) is unique in that we’re out to make our jobs our lives in a way that our jobs feed into our lives, and vice versa, in a positive way.  We all expect to one day be able to fall in love with our jobs.  It’s ok, be poor!  Do what you love!  That’s all that matters!  And really, it should be all that matters.  In the US, our jobs take up A GOOD DEAL of our lives.  Don’t stop to think about it, it’s scary when you think about it.  It’s almost as scary as stopping to think about garbage and how much we consume every day (don’t do that!  It’s scary.  Or do it and actually do something about it instead of turning a blind eye, like me!  [I do recycle and compost though] You go gurl/boi, save dat planet.) 


But yes, money.  This little blurb is telling us that we’ll be jealous of others that make more than us, which is, 1: encouraging a kind of poisonous outlook (worry about yourself, fool, not others.  You worry about others and you’ll be worrying about yourself in the wrong way.  As my mother says, “Comparisons are odious.”) and, 2: GREED.  Guaranteed, if you are reading this from your own personal computer, you have enough stuff. 


Hell, I have too much stuff.  Recently having moved back in with my parents, (free food, cable, and a dog?! I’ll take it) I have also had to confront the sheer amount of crap I have, as it is finally not split between college stuff and home stuff, it’s all the same stuff and no longer separated in boxes to save for easy transport back to that awesome little Providence College bubble (sighhhhhh.)  IT’S A LOT OF STUFF.  Like, I ran out of hangers to hang my clothes, and I have a lot a lot of hangers, people.  Granted, I’ve been squirreling away work clothes all summer for when I’d have a real job (think, “If you build it, they will come” or of an actual squirrel) but still. Yeesh. 


I have shoes for about 90 specific occasions and, in my pea brain, STILL think that I do not have enough shoes.  Or sweaters, or pairs of pants that fit jussssst right and go with that one shirt only cause of the funky and inconvenient pattern that they flaunt.  Just cause you got it on sale, dummy, (one thing I’ll brag about—I’m awesome at sales.  I win the sale game.  Sales are my thing.  I’M JUST GOOD) doesn’t mean it belongs in your closet.  Ugh.  Whoops. 


So, sale rule:  abide by the same rules that you would if you were shopping for regularly-priced clothing.  Oh, and don’t go when you’ve had a lot of coffee.  Excitement from low prices + caffeine buzz = over-excited, erratic shopping.  Never good.  You’ll look down at your arm full of clothing and think: “Well, when would I not wear this jungle-themed romper, I mean, I could pair it with this hat that has a feather sticking out of it!!! And I’ll save like 13 dollars!!” (this sounds like drunk shopping, and it can be, I’ve done it.  It was a weirdly good haul).  Or, you’ll hopefully come to your senses, shake the caffeine off and say, “Oh, nope. Yep, this isn’t good for anyone. And, I’ll just put this (and all these) back…”  Oh, and by the same rules as regular shopping, I mean don’t buy it unless you need it.  Need it in the wanting way of course.  Like there’s that instinctual pull in you that says “I would look awesome in this/wear it all the freaking time.  And it goes with this, this, this AND this in my closet, so it’s perfect.”  Most likely, if you’re naturally drawn to it, you’ll rock it (I just said “rock” it.  Eh, whatever, it’s true).  It’s like a mutual attraction thing?  Question mark because I’m not sure if I’m using that term correctly.  But yes, generally I believe for a lot of things that if you’re undeniably drawn to it, then it’s probably good for you. 


WHICH APPLIES TO A LOT OF THINGS and I think in real life, like metaphysical real life, is actually called the law of attraction. This is getting weirdly deep maybe?  But yes, put out the positive, and you’ll get the positive back.  And, more importantly, put out your real true self, and you’ll get the things that are good for, that enhance your real true self back.  Whether it be people (friendships, relationships, acquaintances, what-have-you), opportunities, ideas, whatever. 


For instance, if you’re fake for a guy/girl/potential mate, things will not work out with them, no matter how much you’d like them to, because your real self is gonna come out at some point, it’ll just be busting at the seams and want you to wave your freak flag, like hard, and that’s gonna throw everything off with that other person.  Basically someone’s gonna come by and pop your balloon at some point (relationship=latex outside, not being yourself=air inside?) and there’s gonna be nothing there and you’re gonna be sad holding a string with a gross wrinkly rubbery thing hanging off the end and who wants that?


Catch my drift?  No?  It’s ok, I’ve had a lot of coffee, and I’ll probably/actually definitely touch on this in another post later on.  Basically, be honest with other people, and if you have to hold back so they’ll still like you, it’s notttttt really meant to be, whether it be a friendship, romantic relationship, whatever.  I am not a relationship expert.

Be yourselffffffff, be yourselfffff.  Refer below, before continuing….

But yea, it’s important to be yourself and to know what makes you feel that way.  (Have I said “be yourself enough?” Jeez, I wish there was another way to say it).  For me, honestly sometimes it is the way I dress, if we’re going to continue from the tangent above.  I feel good when I’ve put together a good outfit.  It’s a creative outlet, mannnnnn.  Which are important! (creative outlets, I mean).  They make us human.  Whether it be reading a book (and annotating), creating a new workout (not my area), making jewelry (my neighbor Susan’s area), teaching, cooking, writing stories, tie dying, dying ties, tying ties, whatever—do anything that gets your juices flowing, that makes you feel like you.  Cause, hey, most times that first job won’t do it for you, and if nothing else, it’s important to maintain your sense of self in your twenties (stick THAT in your internet blurbs!  Not that it’s much of a zinger, it’s just true, ya know) because you can’t complain and say that you’re unhappy until you really know what will make you happy and then do something about it.  And this doesn’t have to involve your job right away. 


In fact, it probably won’t.  So, make time to do the things that make you feel like you.  Like right now, I’m blogging!  (ugg anyone else think that blogging is such a weird fad?  Says the girl that’s blogging. There will probably be more on this later. It’s cool cause I only have one coworker and really get to talk to no one all day and have lately discovered that I can be a CHATTY FREAKING CATHY if you catch me at the right [or, depending how you look at it, wrong] time, so this is great!).


The key to happiness, I think is to cultivate yourself, and then everything will follow.  (Yep, everything!  That easy!  Kidding.) And isn’t your twenties the best time to do that?  You have no babies, at least a lot of us don’t I guess, and can live on your own eventually and stuff—wahoo!  Again, law of attraction—put good out there, put your unique sense of self out there, and the things that are good for you will most likely cross your path, and then you’ll know when to just grab em! And then squeeze em and hug em.  Again, I am not a life expert.  This is just what I hold to be true and what I am reminding myself to continue to hold to be true by talking to you guys.  So thanks!  And it’s not easy to know yourself or to put yourself out there, it’s a process; one that’s worth your time and efforts.


So, this has, appropriately I think, turned into a general introduction to my blog.  It’s a flavor of what I’m about and of more things to come.  Hope it wasn’t too much of a crazy flavor or has left you with a weird taste in your mouth, wondering you ever wanted to try said flavor, but anyway, thanks for reading, errbody.






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