Days till Old Age: Tomorrow
Crap.
So today is my last full day of being 22, and already I'm not so sure I want to live to see tomorrow. First of all, my uterus still motherfucking hurts, which is baffling me; last time I had surgery, it was much more intensive, and yet I was up and dragging my ass around after a few days. Hell, exactly a week after surgery, I began driving myself into Quincy, hopping on the T, and taking freaking summer classes at UMass! But now I'm cranky and sore and my belly button is fucked up, and really people, can I just be healthy???
Second of all, seeing as I'm home for my birthday, tomorrow can mean one terrifying thing, and one terrifying thing only:
Family. Dinner.
Like most people my age, my parents are divorced, and have been divorced for quite some time. Nothing out of the ordinary there. However, unlike most other people, my parents are entirely incapable of being human around each other, and even if they're not screaming and ripping each other's limbs off, they're so anxious and awkward around each other that it always drives me into panic attack territory. Either my father is ranting and raving about something that happened (or, often times, never actually happened) twelve years ago, or he's babbling on so rapidly about something exciting but intelligible that it makes everyone dizzy. There's no happy, calm middle ground - extremes all around for us, baby.
Add in to the mix our latest ex-almost-stepmother (to clarify, she wasn't our step mother, but may have well as been, but now she's another ex, but she still hangs out with the family, so it immediately brings the awkward quotient up to "Insanity") and I think the world might collapse in on itself. I have the urge to flee into the night, but A) it's not night, and B) I can't even mosey, let alone flee, so I think I'm stuck here.
At least we're going to 53 South, which means MARTINI BAR! So I'll be wasted within minutes of arriving at the restaurant, and that's the only solace I can cling to. If I'm lucky, I can pass out somewhere between the appetizers and the main course (ooh, like a mini diet!) and I won't remember anything the next morning. Good thing my tolerance is at an embarrassing low right now.
So, in honor of my last day of being 22, I've put together a list of highlights from the past year. Here goes:
1. The Mormon Mauler: Aw! Nothing says "romantic fun" like a guy that can't hold his liquor or his cocaine. Add into the mix that he's a Mormon that has no problem mauling you half to death, but freaks out at the idea of sex, and you have yet another reason why I refuse to date again for a very, very long time. Also, no, there were no onomatopoeias in the stuffed shells - and yes, he asked this right before passing out on top of Erin on our couch in the dorm. Aw.
2. Graduation: I did it! I graduated! Hooray for a BA in English! I find it hilarious that I graduated with an English degree, and my brother now wants to get a BA in Art History - my parents somehow managed to have children that want the least lucrative degrees in the history of time. Hello, never ending debt! At any rate, somehow my 4 years of boozing, sorority life, and skipping 99% of my classes paid off - well, by paid off, I mean GW became the most expensive school in the country, and we paid over $200,000 for my education, and now with an English degree I'll never make any money, so the school owns my soul. Yes!
3. Getting My First Apartment: I seriously lucked out hard with this apartment. While the rent may be insane, it's much cheaper than anything else in the area (because the building is gross and people are regularly murdered in the halls, if you didn't already know), and you really can't beat the location (midtown on the cusp of downtown? Right between Dupont and Logan Circles? Right between 3 of the largest Metro stops in the city? Hell yeah!) I also lucked into this place because I signed a freaking lease the morning before I got my first job!
4. Appropriately, Gettiing My First Job: Aw, I remember thinking I was going to have such a great time. I was a legal and marketing assistant (or so I thought) and what could be a better stepping stone than that?? And then I realized that by "legal and marketing assistant" my bosses meant "cute chick that does nothing but makes us look good" and then I was sad. And planning my escape.
5. NYC Summer: This summer was the most amazing summer I've ever had. I spent most of it in New York City, being almost entirely broke, and loving every minute of it. New York in the summer is just breathtaking; there's so much to do, and so much fun to be had, and I miss it like crazy. And I realized that I loved living the "bohemian" (aka "broke ass") life. It was exciting and you never knew what was going to happen next. Or when you were going to eat next.
6. Go (Mid)West!: I dunno, I went to the midwest for the first time (other than just going there as a layover before moving onwards.) It was much cuter than I thought it would be, even if you could smell animal in most of the city.
6. Surgery Round 2: Yeah, uh, still holding out hope that this is eventually going to make me feel 100% better again, like the last round did.
So that was, partially, being 22. Of course there was more, but I'm tired of typing, and my uterus is complaining about my laptop being on top of it. So, before I go, I want to type out a list of things I want to achieve during my 23rd year:
- Move the fuck out of DC
- Go to back to Europe
- Sign the contract with the agency in LA
- Bang a celebrity
- Become a celebutard
- Have a haircut named after me
And more! I can't think straight, I need to go take a pain killer and try not to throw up my breakfast, so I'll figure this out once I'm actually 23. Good times!
Crap.
So today is my last full day of being 22, and already I'm not so sure I want to live to see tomorrow. First of all, my uterus still motherfucking hurts, which is baffling me; last time I had surgery, it was much more intensive, and yet I was up and dragging my ass around after a few days. Hell, exactly a week after surgery, I began driving myself into Quincy, hopping on the T, and taking freaking summer classes at UMass! But now I'm cranky and sore and my belly button is fucked up, and really people, can I just be healthy???
Second of all, seeing as I'm home for my birthday, tomorrow can mean one terrifying thing, and one terrifying thing only:
Family. Dinner.
Like most people my age, my parents are divorced, and have been divorced for quite some time. Nothing out of the ordinary there. However, unlike most other people, my parents are entirely incapable of being human around each other, and even if they're not screaming and ripping each other's limbs off, they're so anxious and awkward around each other that it always drives me into panic attack territory. Either my father is ranting and raving about something that happened (or, often times, never actually happened) twelve years ago, or he's babbling on so rapidly about something exciting but intelligible that it makes everyone dizzy. There's no happy, calm middle ground - extremes all around for us, baby.
Add in to the mix our latest ex-almost-stepmother (to clarify, she wasn't our step mother, but may have well as been, but now she's another ex, but she still hangs out with the family, so it immediately brings the awkward quotient up to "Insanity") and I think the world might collapse in on itself. I have the urge to flee into the night, but A) it's not night, and B) I can't even mosey, let alone flee, so I think I'm stuck here.
At least we're going to 53 South, which means MARTINI BAR! So I'll be wasted within minutes of arriving at the restaurant, and that's the only solace I can cling to. If I'm lucky, I can pass out somewhere between the appetizers and the main course (ooh, like a mini diet!) and I won't remember anything the next morning. Good thing my tolerance is at an embarrassing low right now.
So, in honor of my last day of being 22, I've put together a list of highlights from the past year. Here goes:
1. The Mormon Mauler: Aw! Nothing says "romantic fun" like a guy that can't hold his liquor or his cocaine. Add into the mix that he's a Mormon that has no problem mauling you half to death, but freaks out at the idea of sex, and you have yet another reason why I refuse to date again for a very, very long time. Also, no, there were no onomatopoeias in the stuffed shells - and yes, he asked this right before passing out on top of Erin on our couch in the dorm. Aw.
2. Graduation: I did it! I graduated! Hooray for a BA in English! I find it hilarious that I graduated with an English degree, and my brother now wants to get a BA in Art History - my parents somehow managed to have children that want the least lucrative degrees in the history of time. Hello, never ending debt! At any rate, somehow my 4 years of boozing, sorority life, and skipping 99% of my classes paid off - well, by paid off, I mean GW became the most expensive school in the country, and we paid over $200,000 for my education, and now with an English degree I'll never make any money, so the school owns my soul. Yes!
3. Getting My First Apartment: I seriously lucked out hard with this apartment. While the rent may be insane, it's much cheaper than anything else in the area (because the building is gross and people are regularly murdered in the halls, if you didn't already know), and you really can't beat the location (midtown on the cusp of downtown? Right between Dupont and Logan Circles? Right between 3 of the largest Metro stops in the city? Hell yeah!) I also lucked into this place because I signed a freaking lease the morning before I got my first job!
4. Appropriately, Gettiing My First Job: Aw, I remember thinking I was going to have such a great time. I was a legal and marketing assistant (or so I thought) and what could be a better stepping stone than that?? And then I realized that by "legal and marketing assistant" my bosses meant "cute chick that does nothing but makes us look good" and then I was sad. And planning my escape.
5. NYC Summer: This summer was the most amazing summer I've ever had. I spent most of it in New York City, being almost entirely broke, and loving every minute of it. New York in the summer is just breathtaking; there's so much to do, and so much fun to be had, and I miss it like crazy. And I realized that I loved living the "bohemian" (aka "broke ass") life. It was exciting and you never knew what was going to happen next. Or when you were going to eat next.
6. Go (Mid)West!: I dunno, I went to the midwest for the first time (other than just going there as a layover before moving onwards.) It was much cuter than I thought it would be, even if you could smell animal in most of the city.
6. Surgery Round 2: Yeah, uh, still holding out hope that this is eventually going to make me feel 100% better again, like the last round did.
So that was, partially, being 22. Of course there was more, but I'm tired of typing, and my uterus is complaining about my laptop being on top of it. So, before I go, I want to type out a list of things I want to achieve during my 23rd year:
- Move the fuck out of DC
- Go to back to Europe
- Sign the contract with the agency in LA
- Bang a celebrity
- Become a celebutard
- Have a haircut named after me
And more! I can't think straight, I need to go take a pain killer and try not to throw up my breakfast, so I'll figure this out once I'm actually 23. Good times!
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