I set a bit a goal for myself this year – a birthday resolution, if you will. I planned to write out this poetic, tasteful, yet not too out of character post about turning 23 that would go out the day after my birthday.
Shockingly, that did not happen.
No, let’s get real here. I have a full list of stuff I want to write about, but I’m presently working at a law firm, so the best I could do in terms of creativity was calculating exactly how many trips I’ve made around the sun to the day.
So I’ve got nothing to say about turning 23 other than that lobster innards are gross. Give me tails, give me claws, or better yet, give me shrimp. But no innards.
In a half-assed attempt to do this right, here are some lessons learned in the past year:
1. Friends are awesome. Let’s stick family in this one also, no need to be redundant. I have somehow managed to collect a pile of the strangest, most amazing friends who tolerate my tendency to talk too much after a drink or two, never let me forget any stupid things I’ve ever said, and still love me when I come home “permanently” and then say HAHAJUSTKIDDINGI’MLEAVINGAGAINILOVEYOU.
2. “There will always be others.” I don’t remember exactly what my momma was talking about when she said this, but she was right (as always). Things come and go. With that said, if we could just keep the Thai food and craft beer coming, that’d be great.
3. I already wrote a note to my future kids telling them who to call if they get arrested (it’s not me). I know it’s a bit preemptive, but I figured I should do it before I forget and they get arrested.
4. Live abroad while you can. Since I turned 22, I’ve set foot in about 13 countries. I’m not good at counting. But my passport is pretty full. It’s been an enlightening experience, to say the least. I can say with full confidence that the Arctic is cold, that German was created by a sadist, and that meeting people everywhere is fun, but it’s usually a bit easier after a cocktail or two (I’m looking at you, Sweden).
5. Sweet and salty are best friends.
6. Being hungover sucks. I’m not one to drink until completely drunk, but slowly I’ve been learning to simply cut myself off in the evening in order to be able to enjoy the following day. I think this is most pertinent in the summer, when it’s beautiful out. I would much rather spend the day at Sheep’s Meadow in the sun than have those extra drinks the night before.
7. With that said, should a hangover somehow happen, a fried egg with cheese, coconut water, and a banana are your best friends.
8. Genocide is not a dinner table topic. As for a first date topic, on the other hand, it seems to do decently. And no, this doesn’t make any sense to me. Men are strange.
Anyways, I think this will have to suffice. The future lawyers of America need to be recruited, and here I am writing about my secret hangover remedy.