A Letter to my 20-Something Self

Dear 20-Something Christi:

Put down your frosted lip gloss, stop back-combing your jet black/platinum blonde hair and toss that Ed Hardy shirt aside because WE NEED TO TALK. This is your 30 Something self coming in hot, and you- my grungy babe with the heavy black winged eyeliner, are in for a comeback hotter than a scrunchy tied to a crop top. Future you is coming up on the ripe old age of 32 and I need to talk to you about your 20-something life. But please don’t throw your VonDutch trucker hat at me in anger, because shit is about to go down.

In your world it is 2009. You’re 21 going on 22 and you’re almost ready to graduate from college with your Bachelor’s Degree. You have grand plans to become the most incredible Business Woman with your Business Degree and your fancy pant suit you borrowed from Tina down the hall. Plus, you’ve seen Romy and Michelle’s High School Reunion like 50 times so you’ve pretty much got this whole Business Woman thing (and post-it note thing) in the bag. You’ve got your new job all lined up and you don’t even have to start making payments on your student loans for like 3 months! Ahhhh freedom is a mere iPod Shuffle skip away and you can hear the independence of adulthood ringing louder than a Nextel Chirp. You’re stoked to finally become a TRUE adult and have all of your childish problems go away so you can have steady, grown up ones instead.

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