Ah, Twenties, it is a bittersweet parting between us. It's been real, and it's been fun, but I am not sure it's been real fun.
There was drinking liters of wine (liters and liters of wine). There were break-ups (none of which were pretty, I must admit). There were scads of friends (thanks for putting up with me!). There were trips and travels, and trials and tribulations. OK, no trials, thank God, but tribulations in mass quantities for certain. And scores of pictures taken, most of which decorate my scrapbooks for me to peruse later. (Hence, The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly.)
Remember the road trip to go see The H.O.R.D.E. Fest? Remember the Spring Break trips to San Diego? ("Pull over. Pull OVER!" And then Becky Young barfing all over her own car. And poor Etta driving it around town the next day.) Emily reminded me of Jack peeing in her hallway (what IS it with men and peeing?) Remember the weekend where we partied for five days straight in Swanny's dorm room?
Oh, God, the cabin. My favorite place of my Twenties. The cabin. May you live forever in my memory, dear, sweet cabin, full of beer and wine. And may one of us always remember how I screamed and screamed when the beam fell onto my bed and everyone thought I had jumped, and Israel ran outside, au naturel. And then we all shrugged it off, and went inside to make coffee and we drank while admiring the sunrise over the Sawtooths. And horseshoes at the cabin.
Alas, I am off to another decade. And I hope with the knowledge I gained from my first two decades, I can actually not do too much damage to my soft psyche and actually accomplish a thing or two. Or three. One being learning how to drink that many liters of wine without being sicker than a dog the next day.
And so I say goodbye to Twentysomething and say HELLO! to Thritysomething. May my days always be bright and my glass of wine always half full.