Chelsea Fagan

8. Not being invited to a party is the second-worst thing that can possibly happen to you, after being invited to said party out of pity or obligation.

15. Tell them a secret that you’ve never told anyone before and really trust that they’re going to keep it.

Your checking account is not ready to handle buying brand-name cereal, so the idea of getting a place with a nursery and all of the things it would take to stock it only makes you laugh/cry like a hyena.

I only call you names because I know you are in fact the opposite of these things, and therefore can withstand the absurd harshness of their use with complete indifference.

A decent chance that you will get scalding hot fries, the most punishingly beautiful sensation the body can experience.

11. He has a healthy relationship with going out, drinking, and socializing. He is neither completely dependent or absolutely uncomfortable with either of those things.

As the only two stages of a relationship in the Disney universe are “just met thirty seconds ago” and “married in some elaborate, My Super Sweet 16-esque wedding,” you’re probably coming up on the latter.

“It doesn’t matter if you don’t have a job secured yet, just move to New York. You’ll find something! It’s where everything is happening — you need to be there to really make the most out of your 20s.”

Oh my god, is there anything creepier — anything creepier in the entire universe — than calling your significant other “daddy?” No. The answer to that question is no.

4. Having a complicated, bitter, occasionally joyous relationship with base makeup and concealer.

Despite the fact that you, too, used a fake ID just a few short years ago, you are filled with righteous indignation. “Wait your turn, you brats,” you long to say, “Go drink 4 Loko in your bedrooms until you turn 21, like God intended.”

Glitter keychains that said things like “100% Angel.” (Bonus points if they said “100% Devil” on the back.)

Enjoy the brief bouts of unfulfilling coitus that pepper your life, occasionally bookended by some of the most forced, exasperated cuddling in the world.

Responding to people who text you as promptly as you can, within reason. No one likes to be left hanging on a “what’s up” for three hours.

We can’t split up. It’s only three a.m.. Only the elderly and the terminally bogus go home at this geriatric hour.

You are not wearing the kinds of clothes you feel best in because you perceive them to be “not in style,” “not a good label,” or “not meant for someone who isn’t skinny.”

Perhaps it would be best to make an actual list of information you acquired legitimately vs. information that you harvested from Facebook/Google/old blogs/other unfortunate sources

Starting a blog and, despite having an average daily readership of three people including your mother, maintaining and growing it with love.