Ode to the [Almost] Mid-Twenties Crisis

Oh, 23, you are a cruel, cruel mistress. Not allowing us to be rid of the raw youth and freedom of college, and not letting us graduate to the polished and sophisticated life of an adult, you are the puberty bitch of the 20’s. It would be really great if someone could draw the proverbial line in the sand in certain situations.

Example: Is it weird to still be listening to rap music? I find myself in my business attire on my lunch break jamming to South Park Mexican. The collision of the two worlds is jarring. Maybe I should put on something safer, like Brad Paisley. Or maybe I could compromise with something appropriate yet still a little edgy like Sheryl Crow. You know what?? I’ll just turn off the music altogether and just be alone with my thoughts for a while.

Are beer bongs still allowed? Probably not on a work night, right? No, on work nights I drink wine like a lady. On the weekends though, I enjoy finding creative ways to drink out of unexpected items, including my sister’s cleavage. Again, that familiar internal struggle plagues. Is this awesome and hilarious, or slutty and disturbing? Help.

Meeting guys. In college, there were two types: the type that would hand you a watered-down lemon drop with sugar on the rim and a shit-eating grin on his face, or the type that wouldn’t even bother to ask and would shove a tequila shot and a lime into your hand, casually winking and saying, “This one’s for you, baby”. The second guy was automatically a stud, and that was about all you needed to know about him.

When you’re 23 you meet a guy, and the internal struggle beings. While you’re nailing it on the outside, batting your eyelashes and making witty jokes, the battle rages below the surface. Ughh why did you have to go to school in Ft. Collins? He’s drinking a White Russian—sexy or weird? Why are his hands wet?? He is so tall. Should have worn heels. I KNEW this wasn’t going to be a “flats night”, just drinking beers with the girls! Whatever, I’m getting drunk, I think I’m gonna do it! See you in the morning SUCKERS! What? You girls are getting a cab? Fuck it, I’m coming with. Yeah! Definitely call me!! (BYE FOREVER). And just like that, an entire night of hard work is thrown away because doing ski jumps off the couch and sleeping in your own bed sounds better than waking up hung over with a stranger in the Ballpark Lofts.

So what’s a 23 year-old gal to do? How do we make the graceful transition from college to adulthood? Answer: do seemingly adult things with underlying motives. Have “cocktails” at your place before the bars so you can listen to rap with your friends and make that ass clap in the comfort of your home without being judged. Create a “dinner club” which is really just a reason to eat cupcakes and get drunk on a Monday night. Join a softball team, which allows you to oogle the goods on the opposite team without ever having to decide whether or not to go home with them.

And when that strategy doesn’t work and your 23 years seem to be working against you, just remember: soon you’ll be 24 and just one year away from being a quarter of a century old. 23 doesn’t seem so bad now, does it?