Tomorrow is my 23rd birthday. So instead of
moping around my apartment, eating a Midnight Milky Way and checking my roots
for traces of silver, I thought I’d reflect on all the things I’ve done in my
22nd year of life. Nothing jogs the memory like social media, right?
So I’m going to have a look back at my last year of social networking and judge
how great year 22 was by how many retweets I got (But not really. That’s
pathetic.).
Facebook tells me:
- I had an awesome internship that threw me a sweet 22nd birthday party with their whiteboard covered in “22 Things We Know About Beta.”
- I nearly killed myself working on the NSAC Nissan account, and loved it.
- I got pissed at the Commons for repeatedly putting meat in my vegetarian stir-fry.
- My roommate and I had our drinks paid for by the only French men in Springfield.
- I saw my little sister graduate from high school, and I graduated from college.
- I got a job with an incredible company, doing something I love.
Twitter tells me:
- I was stoked about a $30 paycheck on my 22nd birthday.
- I chatted with an old man on the phone, even though he had the wrong number.
- I learned way more about Millennials and Nissans than I ever wanted to know.
- I threw a fit (and rightly so) when Bradley Cooper was named “sexiest man alive.”
- I became obsessed with American Horror Story.
- I started a short-lived vlog. It was weird.
- I saw Incubus live for the second time. Which means I also saw Brandon Boyd half-naked for the second time.
Goodreads tells me:
- I read (and loved) Le Petit Prince.
- I finally gave into (and loved) The Hunger Games.
- I read (and loved) lots of awesome books.
- Surprise, surprise. I really like reading.
Pinterest tells me:
- My sense of humor is usually cat-related.
- I (laughably) think I’m going to be able to afford a loft in New York someday.
- I have a passion for what I do.
- If I could, I would only wear black, white, and stripes.
- I should probably be obese.
That sums it up. 22 was the best. I’m gonna go eat a Milky Way now.
