First Impressions

Ok. I'm on the bandwagon. I am officially blogging. And I would like to say that I spent months deciding what completely decadent, illustrious topics I would write about, but I didn't. It took me about 30 seconds. Because the best blogs are the blogs that are actually ABOUT something, right? I mean, I'm no Seinfeld. I seriously doubt I could make something out of nothing. So here it is. My blog.

I am 27 years old. I am married, have two dogs, and a college degree. A month and a half ago, I moved back home to a state I ditched like a bad habit nine years ago. And when I say ditched, I mean I threw all of my worldly possessions in the back of my car (that my parents were still paying for... what a rebel) and left town the day after high school graduation. I didn't even go to the senior party, a timeless small-town tradition wrought with alcoholism and premarital sex. I was too busy sleeping. 

Why did I want to get the h-double-hockey-stick out of my hometown so badly? I'm sure that will come to light eventually. However, in the meantime, let's talk about why I'm a stone's throw away from the very worst years of my life. 

20-somethings. Good God. Being 20-something is like dating someone who is slowly sucking the life out of you. You know that buried deep under all this suffocation there is a vibrant, youthful, productive member of society. The problem is that you have this appendage that renders you completely useless. You are unexperienced. You are unexperienced in life, unexperienced in love, unexperienced in rejection. You might think you have these things covered, but the world remains convinced otherwise. 20-somethings are not to be taken seriously. We are, in essence, the spit in the bottom of the Coke bottle. Just kind of gross.

Many 20-somethings I know take this revelation with a grain of salt. They're okay with it. It will get better in a few years, right? Probably. I, however, am constantly unsatisfied. I hate the plague of my age. Not that I'm wishing my youth away. Please don't get that idea. You could consider me a completely hopeless optimist. I believe that there is a place for the 20-something where she can be respected. Maybe even considered the ice in the Coke. It is my personal mission to find this place. And before I'm 30. Because then the title of this blog will just sound really dumb.

I am 20-something else. Just watch and see.