6 Things A Twentysomething Needs In Order To Survive
1. Constant validation
It might seem like we all live in different places but we actually all reside in the same area code: The Internet, duh! Otherwise known as Narcissist Nation (population: us). Thanks to Twitter, Facebook, and our parents, we are now unable to survive without constant validation and accolades. We’ve been told we’re special from day one and that has been blown up via social networking sites. Every time you sign online, you set yourself up either for rejection or acceptance. People “like” our thoughts every day, write on our walls, tweet at us and Follow Friday our Twitter handles. People/borderline strangers are telling us we’re great all day long and that praise becomes addicting. Twentysomethings need to have their feelings validated by their BFF’s and sometimes a random stranger in Singapore. Otherwise, ashes to ashes, we all fall down.
2. Talking about the healthy, expensive, and complicated food they eat
Twentysomethings are REALLY into food. If they’re not eating it, chances are they have an eating disorder, which is chic too, but most of us are “foodies” who take note of everything that enters our bodies. “OMG, look at this tempeh stir fry I made all by myself! Jealous?” Um, no. It looks like poop. Literally. We like to show that we eat healthy and spend six dollars on organic cereal rather than a name brand at a corporate store because, ew, preservatives. My body, my rules, my VERY expensive grocery store bill.
3. A cellphone
This is so obvious I almost decided not to include it but I knew people would call me out for excluding it. So here it is! Twentysomethings (and everyone else) need cell phones. Without them, we would just wander aimlessly to strangers’ doorsteps and knock. Someone would answer and look at us blankly. Unsure of what to do, we would “HOO” at them like an owl, before malfunctioning like a robot and dissolving into a puddle of burnt wires. Surprise! We’re cyborgs. Byeeeee.
4. Have a #dark period in their lives
As twentysomethings, we always feel like delicate fragile feathers clicking REFRESH on that one New York Times article about us (you know the one) and writing vague emo things on our blog. “FML FML OMG FML IS MERCURY IN RETROGRADE?”. We always like to refer to dark times in our lives with a renewed sense of clarity. “I’m past that now. It’s hard to believe it actually happened.” And you have to bite your tongue to refrain from saying, “Honey, that dark time you’re referring to happened last week!” But you know, metamorphosis or whatever. Caterpillar to a butterfly. Kafka. You’re totally a different person now. That was when you were 22 and now you’re 24 so, you know, a lot has changed.
5. Stuff we don’t need
To be fair, this isn’t really our fault. We were born into a consumer culture and it has only intensified with the advances in technology. But on the real, if you can’t pay your rent, don’t spend five hundred dollars on a phone. Don’t sit here and talk to me about not having any money while showing me the cool things Siri can do. Here’s an idea. How about you ask Siri how you can make $$$? It’ll respond probably with, “IDK LOL.”
6. Articles about themselves on Thought Catalog
Honorable mentions: Telling themselves that they’re NOT a hipster, a computer to hide behind when things get real, pills, TV shows/movies/books about their generation, pop music so they can love it ironically, their parents’ money, their parents’ love, ignoring their parents’ phone calls, complaining about never getting laid but never actually trying, saying “I HATE DRAMA!” when you are the drama queen, being jealous of everyone who isn’t you, flaking on someone at least once a week, not saying what you actually mean, and thinking you’re crazy.
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I wish to God I’d had a list like this when I was 23.
Answer phones better than anyone else has answered phones before. Relay messages so brilliant, they bring people to tears. Turn the coffee run into the choreography of Swan Lake. Become best friends with every intern and every underling and every taxi driver you encounter.
I remember taking the pen and notebook from that woman outside the courtroom, flipping to a clean page in the book, and writing, JESSICA IS SAD in big, bold, uncoordinated letters. “My sister is going to be a good writer someday! Look at how nice her lines are!”
To begin, I got totally screwed over in the dental genes department. I was born with a pretty severe overbite and a mouth that was too small.