Thought I’d join in on the generalizing 20-somethings movement, coupling it with a look back on my awkward adolescence.
In my teens: “After college, I’m gonna get my dream job, buy myself my first Louis Vuitton ‘careerwoman purse’, marry my dream hubby by 26, have three kids by 30 and live happily ever after.”
In my twenties: “Should I pay this month’s utilities bill, or adopt a dog? One vote for dog.”
In my teens: I translate everything to Korean for my parents, from cable bill notices to exchanging a hammer at Lowe’s.
In my twenties: I translate everything for the padres on top of figuring out my own bills and sh*t.
In my teens: OMG did my crush really smile at my lame joke, or did he just notice some food stuck in my teeth?
In my twenties: OMG did this interviewer really smile at my lame joke, or did she just notice I included ‘Chic-fil-A cashier’ under work experience?
In my teens: “LIFE IS SO UNFAIR.” *slams door shut*
In my twenties: “Life’s a bitch. Next round is on me, ladies!”
In my teens: Finally getting that new shiny silver Sprint flip phone and treating it as I would my own child.
In my twenties: I JUST bought this ridiculously expensive smartphone last month and now I’m already outdated by its newer version.
In my teens: Why is Hollister is so expensive? 😦
In my twenties: Why doesn’t Chanel ever go on sale? 😦
In my teens: Mom and dad’s word is Law.
In my twenties: Mom and dad’s word is still Law, but now I can hide my deviations better.
In my teens: Skulking around the 18-and-up club with that embarassingly large X stamped on my hand, holding a cocktail (thanks to a cool of-age friend) down by my side and sipping when I think the bouncers aren’t looking.
In my early twenties: Skulking around the 21-and-up club trying to find a guy who is actually over 21.
In my later twenties: SO done with the crawling-home-at-6AM-stinking-of-alcohol-and-cigarettes-and-shame. Now, looking forward to a quiet Friday night in with cookies, reruns of ‘The Big Bang Theory’ and a 1000pc puzzle is what gets me through the workweek.
In my teens: That ‘bad boy’ is oh so hot.
In my twenties: That responsible, honest, hard-working man with manners and a savings plan who treats me like the Queen of his world is oh so hot. (Bad boys are still hot, but only for a fleeting glance. We’re done babysitting now.)
In my teens: I can’t wait to become a real grown-up.
In my later twenties: I can’t tell if I’m a real grown-up, or if I’m just more set in my ways and too lazy to change any further.