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What is it about 20-somethings?

Article in the New York Times

“She was coddled her whole life, treated to French horn lessons and summer camp, told she could do anything. “It is a double-edged sword,” she writes, “because on the one hand I am so blessed with my experiences and endless options, but on the other hand, I still feel like a child. I feel like my job isn’t real because I am not where my parents were at my age. Walking home, in the shoes my father bought me, I still feel I have yet to grow up.””

It’s awfully cocky of me to think that I think that I act older than my age.  Perhaps I shouldn’t be making assumptions about myself in comparison to the people around me, because frankly, I see all sorts.  Some of my friends haven’t left home, some dropped out of school.  A select few didn’t even go to college.  On the other side of the spectrum, I see some of my friends getting mighty internships in the financial district at various hedgefund firms and job offers of their dreams.

The article mentions becoming an adult as growing up, going to college, getting a job, getting married, and having kids.  Would it still be immature to be exactly where you want to be?

I’m anxious to find a job after college.  I had a quick phone interview for a Ralph Lauren internship today.  It’s thrilling to move forward.  But i’m more fearful that i won’t move forward enough to make me happy and to make my lifestyle sufficient.

My mind’s a mush.

and I forgot to wash the dishes.

My parents are never the same every time i visit them.  They get moodier and moodier at each other.  My mother can’t stop nagging my dad, and my dad has these random cases of anger explosions (the result of my mother’s incessant nagging).  Yesterday my mom blew up on my dad just because he accidentally bought the wrong flavor of ice cream.

ICE CREAM!

He got cookies n’ cream instead of pistachio.

I can’t judge because of course, I’ve never been married or been in a relationship that lasted longer than 10 months.  However I can have fear that I might turn into a 50 year old lady that’s nagging and yelling at her husband just because he bought the wrong flavor of ice cream.  Sometimes cookies n’ cream is more than just ice cream.

When we’re young we all have this fantasy about marriage.  I hear many girls when they’re 13 do the pillow case ceremony (where they wrap it around their heads and pretend it’s a veil).  It’s cute, innocent, and romantic.  They never think about the fighting.  Just the roses and the smell of sweet lavender perfume wafting through the air.

I wonder if young women like me need to be warned of the future of marriage and the already wed like my parents need to be enlightened by the lavender perfume of their old wedding night.

As human behavior goes, I think we’re all, by nature, stubborn. Ignorantly stubborn.  Everything has a rhythm, yea?   Even those who are eccentric and often do things unexpected still function on a rhythm in their lives.  When we interact with others and have people depend on us (friends) and make promises (marriage), our rhythm is different.  How do we like it? and when we continue to stay with that rhythm, especially for a long period of time, sometimes we don’t know what’s good for ourselves and we let our rhythm become sad, and tragically, we find ourselves too stubborn or lazy to do much about it.

Lesson of life: be vigilant about your rhythm.

It’s like I’m becoming my own worst enemy.

And most of all, I hate how easily i’m influenced by others and my environment.

Studies show that women are more competitive with their friends than men.  I miss the days of having a good boy buddy that I could just relax and hang around with.  Now I just have a friend that i’m suspicious about and can’t get over due to (what I think) her insatiable desire to always be better than me- morally, in personal life, and career.  It’s funny because I wonder if she thinks the same thing about me.

When I tell a joke in front of a group of people and they laugh, she doesn’t seem pleased.  When we happen to be in a group where they’re interested in her, she looks smug and so comfortable her face wouldn’t change if you slipped a fat comfy bean bag under her.

When we talk about jobs and getting ahead in the industry, she’s happy because she’s gotten farther than me.  Yet, she still carps and complains about how she needs a job so much more than me because she’ll be deported if she doesn’t find a job in time (a year).  She’s from S. Korea, which isn’t that bad, and never cares to think about those who have it 10Xs worse than her.  It’s always difficult to try to talk to her about getting a job in NY, because she constantly smothers in my face:  :”You have nothing to worry about. You’re and American citizen. You can hang around her as long as you want. I’ll get deported.” She’s always flipping out the D word like she’s getting sent back to N. Korea. SOUTH, sweetheart. SOUTH.  It angers me even more than she always ignores me when I tell her that my parents won’t be supporting me when school ends.

She becomes suspicious, I become suspicious.

When she has a moment of insecurity, I later find myself in the same position.

I hope to God I don’t have self destructive tendencies.  Those are the people I dislike the most.

Simple solution? I need better quality friends? …where to find them..where to find them..

From my first step to my first loose tooth

To school                    To home.

From screaming to hugging.

I may not always show my appreciation

and it eats me to bits many times.

But mother,

my dear mother,

every thought that passes through my conscience is a tribute to you.

Every hurtful remark

Every strike at my pride.

I am who I am.

Sticks and stones can break my bones but only your words will ever hurt me.

But mother,

my dear mother,

I will always love you.

Thank you for always making me feel half empty than half full,

because my life wouldn’t be the way it is if I’ve always thought the latter.

Although,

It’s too late to condemn my imperfections,

they’ve already condemned themselves.

Call me a whore,

call me a disgrace,

tell me you’ve failed as a mother, but mother,

my dear mother,

I will always love you.

I wonder if it has occurred to anyone that girls just might not like girl talk.  For those confused, I’ll be more clear.

Girl Talk:

1. Gossip- Don’t get me wrong- I actually don’t mind a bit of gossip. “My 20-year old friend is dating a 40 year old man!” or “omg i heard she finally got an STD after sleeping with so many men”.  It’s all fun and talk, and this part is actually okay with me as long as it doesn’t get into the obnoxious area and start coming from unreliable sources.  I prefer gossip as a way to inform one another- not a way to “suppose” something and it not be true.  But besides that, I love hearing about a girl who betrayed my friend completely get served.  It’s brilliant.

2. Body- Girls often insecure about their bodies.  And the only way to tell is how friendly and un-condescending they are.  However, the ones who aren’t secure are the ones that put people down, but yet put up this stupid facade that they’re secure with themselves.  I’d rather have girls who are outwardly insecure and telling people they don’t like their body than aforementioned.  What bitches, eh?

3. Boys- boy problems? hey, we cope.  as friends, it’s our main duty to steer our buddies in the right direction.  But what do you do with the ones that don’t?  Do you stay friends with self-destructive tendencies?  People think i’m harsh for not giving a rats ass about stories I hear about a relatively distant friend who got “betrayed” by a guy.  To be honest, I’ve heard this girl’s story hundreds of times and the only reason why she can’t see him anymore is because he decided to go for a serious relationship.  (This girl is a fling girl you find at clubs and lounges.)  So for boy problems- give me the real problems, not the self-destructive whiny personalities.

4. What they want- Oh, our dream wedding, our dream honeymoon, guy, house..well mansion…job..income…the list could go on and on.  I’m half and half on this one as long as it doesn’t go too far.  I think it stops at Job.