10 Low Down, Dirty, Raw-Doggin' Shitty Things No One Speaks About in Their Twenties

I started thinking long and hard the other day about all of those "lists" that you read on BuzzFeed, etc.  You know what I'm talking about?  The shit people on your Facebook feed are constantly posting links to:  "Twenty-Five things to do Before You Turn 25," "What You Need to Realize Before You Hit 30."  Well guys, I want to write a list about the real deal... the down low and dirty shit no one actually talks about.  I call it:

10 Low-down, Dirty Raw Doggin' Shitty Things No One Every Speaks About in Their Twenties

1.  You will think about suicide once a month- 

Whether you are like I was when I was 24 and working as a server at a venue that had 4 dark days out of 7, wondering how you were going to pay rent with about $5 in your checking account, living off of a bag of frozen peas and a loaf of stale bread every week (but I was so beautiful and thin... sigh), crying multiple times a day and calling home once a week for money, or whether you have just gotten dumped by your very first boyfriend and feel as though it's the end of the world because all of your friends' prioritize drinking and whoring themselves before consoling you with shitty comedies and a pizza night the way that REAL girlfriends are supposed to, life in your twenties can be damn lonely and damn desperate at times.  When you think you've hit rock bottom, just remind yourself of your one friend that is more of a mess than you (you know, the one who has slept with too many people to count, has a nasty coke habit, can't keep a job, and sucks dick for the finer things in life).  Also, call your parents, because at the end of the shitty, fucking, lonely, desolate day of contemplating suicide, they're actually, probably, the only ones that will give a fuck if you live or die (because they have to pay your funeral expenses) and come to your aid whether it is emotionally or financially (the rest of your friends will probably be partying and high on MDMA or chasing the cock of the month).

2.  You Will Still be a Poor Piece of Shit Unless You've Already Lucked Out With a Dream Job

No matter how much your friends on Facebook like to brag about how much they fucking love their jobs, we all know that unless you've graduated pharmacy school, law school, or some sort of trade school, chances are, the jobs you will hold in your twenties make shit.  I don't care if you love your co workers so fucking much that you consider them your best friends, or if your job throws awesome office parties, chances are it still only pays well enough to cover the cost of your NYC rent and monthly metro card (and that is IF you are lucky... many of us poor slobs have to take on two jobs just to cover the cost of NYC rent).  You are not alone if you have to feel guilt every time you go out for a few drinks or buy yourself some new shoes.  It really fucking sucks having to shell out 50% of your monthly income for rent and student loans.  It really fucking sucks having to choose one night a week to go out because you can't afford to go out multiple nights and still afford to buy food for the upcoming week.  I can tell you honestly, and I can only do so because those days are behind me now, but their were weeks of my life when cream for my coffee was a fucking luxury.  A LUXURY.  Growing up in a nice, middle-class home, you never dream of the day when you will realize you only have enough money in your account that you have to choose between buying a four-pack of toilet paper, or some dish soap.  I kid you not.  I mean, I already told you about the summer I was living off a bag of rice and some frozen peas.  I have no shame... I can't have shame because the older I get, the more I have realized I wasn't alone in my struggle.

3.  There Will Come a Time When You Realize Your Only Friends Are Your Siblings or Parents

In your twenties, chances are you will be going out and getting fucked up.. A LOT.  You will meet some really awesome party people with some really awesome drugs.  These people are fun, but they aren't real.  No.  The only people you can ever depend on besides yourself, are your parents, and maybe your siblings.  Some of us will be lucky if we have a few good and honest friends that pick up the phone when we call crying and suicidal at 3am, or a single friend who you know will come cry with you and smoke you up on a Saturday afternoon when you've confessed via text that you don't know if you can possibly make it another week working at the same dead-end job. True friends are few and far between in your twenties.  Let's face it, the world revolves around us.  We are all the center of our own worlds, and we all have pretty jacked priorities when we are in our twenties.  For most of us, priorities revolve around making money to live, and then spending that money we make to chase fun or chase potential mates (if we are single that is).  That's just how life works.  Don't feel discouraged when the person you thought was a good friend doesn't pick up their phone at 2am because they're at the coolest party ever, and don't feel bad when that other person that you thought was a really good friend picks up the phone and tells you that they can't come over because they have period cramps on a lazy Sunday afternoon when you've confessed you just really need someone there with you because your boyfriend dumped you and you hate life.   It's times like these you will be lucky to have siblings who know you inside and out and actually care about your well-being.  It's times like these you are lucky that your dad loves you enough to pick up the phone at 4am when You're having an anxiety attack and can't breath through the tears.  It's times like these when you should have a secret stash of xanax on hand because that is your ONE TRUE FRIEND IN THIS WORLD.

4.  Easy Come, Easy Go, Little High, Little (or Major) Low

Yes, I just quoted a Queen song... because Freddy fucking knows, man.  The highest highs you will ever experience are undoubtedly in your twenties.  The problem with the highest highs, is that they are followed by the lowest, mother fucking lows. I'm talking sobbing uncontrollably for days on end because the weekend bender Upstate, that you've been planning and looking forward to for months, is over.  When it's over, it's back to the reality that you hate, and the fact that you feel as if your reality is never actually going to change.  If You are confused about what constitutes as a 'come down,'   please refer to #1 (SUICIDE).  If you've been spending your entire pay check in two nights, and have been out all, weekend long, rolling major-balls and blowing lines in between, meeting new/awesome party people, feeling good, and generally just neglecting all of your concerns, fears, the hatred you feel towards your job/boss/normal society, and the fact that your rent just increased $200, chances are you are gonna crash and burn like a motha' fucka' when you finally come down or go home from that after-hours party.  No one wants to go from feeling like the king of the world (or like Uma Thurman's character in Pulp Fiction) to a lonely apartment with a barren fridge, an empty bed, and an empty soul.  It's not fun escaping the sad confines of working reality in a party setting where you own the game, only to come back down to that black hole that leads you to go get fucked up in the first place.  I can honestly say I've had more fun in my later twenties than I ever had in college or during my early twenties.  However, I can also say that regrouping after such extreme fun has become increasingly hard because mommy and daddy aren't around to stop you from going out 4 nights in a row, and your college roomie isn't there to tell you "no" when you want to pull out the drugs at 6pm.  When the come down is this bad, it's time for Xanax.  Or pizza.  Or sleep.  Or all three.  A good cry in the tub also helps.  Or crying for three days on end until your boyfriend threatens to leave you... whichever comes first to snap you out of it.

5.  When All of Your Friends Bail After saying "Oh Yeah, I'll come!" 

Please refer to #3.  You're friends are fake kid! Like I already said, the best friends you'll ever have are the ones you made when you were 7, the ones you peed in bathtubs with in college, or your siblings.  There just is no in between.  No.  Most of the friends you acquire throughout your twenties are good for partying or the occasional hang out in a chill Sunday type setting, but don't count on people to follow through with anything to which they commit.  I don't care if you're paying for the whole goddamn weekend.  It's hard to get people to commit to something like a couple days out of town, coming to a party with copious amounts of booze, or even a girl's night.  Again people, it's the fact that the world revolves around us... the fact that our priorities revolve around us, and the fact that no one has money.  It's a sad reality, but it is what it is.  Most people are too consumed chasing the dick/p*ssy du jour around town to let it go for a couple of days, or too consumed with something else that comes up and looks more fun than whatever bullshit you've planned previously.

6.  You Will End up The Last One to Be Engaged, Married, Pregnant, or With three Kids. 

Yes.  Yes, yes yes YES YESSSSSSS... I mean, I don't want kids right now, or anytime soon. I swear to you when I say, that EVERY TIME you log onto Facebook for the day, at least ONE new person on your newsfeed will either be 1) Engaged 2) Having a Wedding 3)Announcing a pregnancy 4)Showing off a bullshit ring on their fat fucking hand 4)Showing a sonogram 5) Having the actual kid 6) bragging about how smart their 1 year old is.  Now, I understand that we are growing up and this is a natural progression of things.  However, I don't need to know that your kid won't sleep for shit as you openly post things like "Hey all of my Mommy Friends, what do you do when your baby won't go to bed".  Ew... "mommy friends?" aren't they real people?  I don't brag about the fact that I just stayed up until 5am partying because I have no kids, so why are you announcing that your kid peed in the potty to the entire world?  There is a time and a place for everything.  I'm not against posting pictures of kids etc... but when you start detailing your feeding routine and treating all of Facebook like it's a goddamn mommy board, it's just not cool.  Maybe I should start asking open questions on Facebook to all of my party friends, like "Hey all party peeps, my best friend has been up all night vomiting from some bad drugs, anyone have any party peeps advice about how I can make her feel better and keep her hydrated?" Thanks.

7.  The Never Ending Story (AKA. The Never Ending Search for a Better Job)

Yes, this is the true story of my life.  MTV should do a "Real Life:  I go on interviews every week but still don't get hired."  I don't fucking get it.  I think it's because I live in NYC so the competition is fierce... like, I'm talking, I don't get the job, because after I walk out, someone with the same skills and education comes in but they have fake lips and are a foot taller... so they get it.  Yes.  That must be it.  At this point, I should really just make a career of applying to and interviewing for jobs.  All of the time and energy I put into scouring indeed.com/craigslist/findspark.com, etc., should really be compensated. I'm pretty sure that in addition to my 43 hour work-work weeks, I spend an additional 43 hours applying to and searching for potential jobs.  It's a real ball buster, let me tell you.  I used to feel sad when I didn't hear back, but now I just laugh.  I'm gonna burn all these mother fuckers who didn't hire me someday when I finally get my book published, and they're the motivation behind it.  It sucks to be me, but I wouldn't have it any other way... you know why? Because it's pretty fucking laughable at this point.  Like my mom said, maybe it is this blog... maybe, this is why I don't get hired ;) :)

8.  DRINK DRINK DRINK

Enough said- it's the one thing that will keep you stabilized, and the one thing that might also set you off like a fucking atomic bomb.


9.  Did I mention the Party People You will meet?  

I've met some real crazy, cool peeps these past few years.  Even if they aren't my best friends, they're cooler than they people you hang out with.

10.  My Poor Boyfriend, My poor friends, My poor family, and Everyone who sees me cry

Make sure you let all of the people who actually do give a shit about you know that you also give a shit about them.  Tell people you love them when you love them, don't take the real friends for granted, don't take you father, mother, sister, brother, cousin, best friend, or significant other for granted, for they are the only ones that will love you even after you mentally abuse them in the midst of a break down.  Make sure you are good to them when you can be.  And the most important thing is karma:  Make sure that you take care of them when they are having a moment/breakdown/comedown/suicidal thoughts.  I would go to the end of the world to make a friend or loved one feel better if I know they would do the same for me.

Reality Bites Hardcore

I'm sitting here with the same Mascara I applied Tuesday afternoon, and it is currently Thursday evening.  I have about two eyelashes right now because of how clumped together they are. I am covered in bugbites, bruises, and a cigarette burn (accidental burn that occurred in the hot tub... I know... I'm a mess) but they were all worth it.  After a fun filled mini vacation to Woodstock, reality chewed me up and spit me back out today at 6am when I woke up to go into what is hands-down the worst job on Earth (just today, one of my co-workers said that he would rather be in the middle of gunfire on the Mexican border than going into that place... that is really saying something about where I work).

Woodstock was absolutely amazing... I really never wanted to come back to NYC.  I'm so obsessed with that house that if it should ever go on the market, I will sell a kidney to put a down payment on it.  I wish that I could convince its current owner to let me stay free of charge for the remainder of Summer and renovate it by hand for no cost- she would just have to pay for materials and my labor would be free of charge.  It has an awesome layout and awesome architecture, but It could use a few improvements in the way of a kitchen renovation and some new tiles in the bathrooms.

View from the Tower... so fucking awesome.

My sexy legs: a combination of bug bites, and bruises incurred from dancing like a stripper... don't ask.  You should see the cigarette burn on my arm and the road rash I got from itching the bug bites on my back... I am so disgustingly beat up right now it is comical.  

It is so hard coming back to NYC in the summertime and coming back to the job that literally crushes my soul after being away for a few days.  This happens every single time I have a few days off of work and especially when I go away, but returning to this city and to 666 5th Avenue (yes, I literally work in a building with the number 666... it is a sure sign), is absolutely devastating.  I don't know if I could live in Woodstock on a permanent basis at this point in my life, but I sure do wish I had the financial means to go there every other weekend or for a week at a clip to escape NYC living.  The town is nice because unlike the part of Upstate where I grew up, there are really awesome little shops, awesome restaurants and eateries, scenic mountains, a beautiful little town, and way more stuff to do than Chenango County.  The townspeople seem pretty awesome as well.  There is an abundance of dirty hippy types that I ascertain came for the 1969 festival and just stuck around afterward, but at least everyone is nice and super friendly.  Unlike the vagabonds of NYC, they aren't crazy and screaming obscenities and causing a scene on the subway.  We always end up meeting random, awesome people when we go as well... crazy attracts crazy in a good way haha.

It was a real slap in the face today returning to a city with streets that smell like dead rat, human shit, and piles of garbage festering in the 85 degree humidity.  I miss the smell of fresh cut hay and the scent of the woods.  I miss the silence at night as opposed to the sounds of sirens I hear even now as I type this, and the fucking sound of construction across the street every morning at 7am.  I miss waking up to birds singing and looking out the windows of the bedroom I stayed in to see mountains and trees.  I don't know why I live here sometimes... I really don't know what I'm doing here.

I can't even put into words how much fun I have every time I am there- I mean it helps that I go with my awesome boyfriend and crazy-awesome friends, but like, shit... I am still having fun even when I drink to the point of throwing up.  I think I still find the perfect balance of partying and chilling.  I wish my entire life could be like that always. I wish I could occasionally just do things at home to make money like customized festival costumes and writing novels.  The rest of my life would be spent actually living and enjoying all that it has to offer.

The stairs leading down to a stone patio on a hill... I definitely failed to take more pictures of how beautiful the garden and actual house were.  Oh well, I have airbnb.com for that :p

Summertime is not meant to be spent amongst concrete buildings in an ugly, filthy city with polluted air... it's meant to be spent running around barefoot in a garden.  It's meant to be spent BBQ-ing with friends on a deck overlooking the woods- it is meant to be spent sitting in a hot-tub under the stars with a bottle of Prossecco.  I want to wake up every day and sit in a hot tub with a mimosa.  I want to have the luxury of moseying on downtown to the local pub for an afternoon drink on the patio with friends.  I want to cook meals for my friends and family every weekend and see everyone have fun.  I hate that reality here consists of working my ass off for what oftentimes seems like a means to no end.  Will things ever get better? They have to, right?!  Right???

I wouldn't be so depressed right now if work didn't keep getting worse and worse.  I sincerely feel as if the best days of my life are slipping by sometimes because this is the youngest, healthiest, and most alive I will ever feel.  I hate that all of my energy and time is wasted on a job that doesn't even provide me with a disposable income to actually do things and explore the world.  I hate that I don't even have two consecutive days in a row off now so that I have some sort of semi-weekend type deal.  I used to at least have some fucking consistency in my work schedule.  I mean, because I work retail I accepted the fact long ago that I will work most weekends and holidays.  However, despite the fact that we have more managers than we have had in the past year and 8 months that I've been working at this job, we have more fucked schedules than ever before as the direct result of power-trips and micro-managing.

For a while, we had a team of 7 managers... SEVEN.  Even when we had only seven managers, everyone had a more consistent schedule and one which they were happy with. We now have SIXTEEN (16) managers, and no one is happy with their schedule.  It makes no sense either, since we all have different wants and needs in terms of days off.  For example, most people would love to have off Friday and/or Saturdays... I will work closing shifts every goddamn Friday and Saturday as long as I can have off Sunday since my boyfriend and the majority of my friends work those nights.  It is absolutely pointless for me to be off on a Friday night, because all of the people I want to hang out with are working so I will spend it alone.  Even if I get out at 10pm I can still go do something as long as I close again the following day.  Other people love to have their days off at separate points of the week because it breaks the week up for them.  I personally cannot stand having my days off separate.  Unless I have two consecutive days in a row, I feel like it's not an actual break.  I get nothing done, I don't feel at all rested, and I just feel fucked-over.  Next week, I don't have a SINGLE DAY OFF with my boyfriend.  I am off on Wednesday and Friday, neither of which is he off.  Two other managers would love Friday off and have offered to trade their Monday off for my Friday off, however, even though we used to trade shifts all the time with no problem, apparently we can no longer do so... it makes no fucking sense.  It's like they literally want us to be miserable and hate our jobs and our lives. It wouldn't be so bad if work wasn't 45 hours of my fucking life every week.  It wouldn't even be so bad if I made enough money to make up for how dicked around I am.  I am not sure how much longer I can hold my shit together while I search for a better job.  I am looking at serving and hostessing jobs just because I can't continue to work under these conditions.  It is absolutely uncalled for.

I guess I will try to peace together my mental sanity for the sake of everyone in my life.  I almost cried multiple times at work today it was so mentally torturous to be in that dark fucking dungeon of a stockroom and that awful sales floor with the crap music that makes me want to end my life by jumping from the second pier and the smell of cologne polluting my fragile lungs as it leaks from the scent system on our ceiling.  If there is a God (and I believe there is), I truly hope he hears my pleas for help.  I'm definitely doing all I can to GTFO.  I don't know what else to do... if I did, I would surely do it.

Pre-Bender Post

Currently sitting here listening to NIN Pandora and a Marilyn Manson song I've never heard before came on- the lyrics are "I don't like the drugs, but the drugs like me" ... Mami Likey ;)  

It was another uneventful day in the life of moi.  I was off today and as usual the following happened: 

1) Job applications sent. 

2) Two interviews gone on. 

3) Groceries done. 

4) Floor/apartment scrubbed. 

5) 2.5 hour meal prepared (Homemade chicken cordon Bleu, mushroom risotto, and asparagus... I'm a regular ol' Betty f*cking Crocker, I know).

6) Self tanned (fifty shades of varying orange/alabaster/tan going on now... slightly looks like vitiligo but it's better than being pasty... at least in my eyes)

7) Slutty selfies taken. 

Almost One Week Later... 

Yep, just another typical day off in the life of Moi.  I started this entry four days ago on Monday, but didn't finish it, so I'm finishing it now :D  I had another interview today that I was thoroughly excited for. It was for an Executive Assistant position for a company that basically grows other companies and helps to market them. Not only was it in Meatpacking district across the street from STK and Cielo, but the offices were the nicest I have ever seen... I'm talking antique looking pillows on the couches with the faces of David Bowie and Dave Grohl dressed as Civil War soldiers.  Alas, the actual interview there only lasted five minutes and I heard back only two hours later from the girl who interviewed me telling me I didn't get it :D :D :D AWESOMMMMEEEE.  She literally only asked me like two questions and seemed in a rush the whole time.  It was kind of rude.  Maybe I wasn't what her boss was looking for.  Maybe he wanted an assistant that is Russian and 5'10" or one who is ugly and went to Harvard and is chubby so his wife knows he won't cheat on her.  Who fucking knows.  I can only assume she made a judgement based on how I looked since she didn't even spend the time to get to know me.  Maybe I'm ugly.   Oh well, even though the offices were sick, I guess it was meant to be.  I don't think I'd be happy working a 9-6 Monday thru Friday anyhow.  But that office :(....

I cannot wait for Sunday to come so I can get my party on at Woodstock Bender 2015.  I hope the weather is as hot as it was this past week so I can play outside all day and night wearing next to nothing (you know how I like it).  I want to have a bonfire, BBQ, drink champagne in the hot tub, and generally be a wild animal.  I need it... actually,  I DESERVE it. ;)  Life has been pretty taxing lately with work being worse than usual (hard to believe, I know), my rent increasing a hefty chunk, and the fact that I am still searching for a better job to no avail.  I am trying to stay positive despite the circumstances.  I guess when my job finally comes it will be the one it's meant to be. I'm not really sure if there are any places left to apply to that I haven't already.  Sigh.  At least I have other things to look forward to... like all of the concerts I'm going to this summer/fall and warm weather.  

Tan as f*ck... I didn't get the job, but at least I'm tanned.

My job provides me with a discount on slutty summer apparel at least.  

I know. 

I have my grocery list ready to go, the booze is being picked up tomorrow, and I have some 25% DEET bugspray and some SPF 50 ready to go.  I am going to go hotdog crazy: two dogs, one bun... I am going to sip prosecco in the hot tub and vodka tonics in the bathtub overlooking the mountains.  If I can make it through only two more days I'll be ok.  

I am thinking about what I'm going to wear to all of the concerts I'm attending this summer as well (since this is how I spend my days off).  I mean ACDC is kind of a given- crop top and my 6 inch platrom booties, but what does one where to a U2 concert? I think I might just wear the Irish flag and this way I can grab Bono's attention and storm the stage... jk.  hahahahah.  Hmm... well I still have a month to think about it. 

I guess I should go do something semi productive now so I don't waste my night or even worse, go absolutely bat-shit psycho on my boyfriend while he works until 5am.  Maybe I should go out... oh nevermind, I can't... since I work at 11am :D #blessed #charmedlife