Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Xuebing Du
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Misplaced Lens Cap
ojovivo
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JBB: An Artblog!
Sade Olutola
Monterey Bay Aquarium
RMH
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Keni
Jules of Nature
izzy's playlists!
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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if i look back, i am lost
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@americantwentynothings
Maybe not
I think I was in fifth grade. We’d just finished up a field trip or a book fair, but somehow I ended up with a bookmark on my desk. On it were two rows with the names and pictures of our 43 United States presidents. I remember fumbling with it, smiling at the funny hairstyles of the 19th century, and reflecting that they all looked pretty grumpy. While examining at the faces of the leaders of…
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Chris Pratt Interrupts Interview To French Braid Intern’s Hair
Be more appealing, Chris Pratt, I dare you.
The Summer of Pratt rages on and I see no end in sight. The Summer of Pratt could last until 2016 for all I know or care.
May the Summer of Pratt never end.
UGH. So jealous. Doesn't help that her hair is #flawless. PRATT FOR PREZ.
Americans (literally) cannot stop eating Chipotle burritos.
^ Proof
(Your lunchtime read — get it?!)
Pretty sure I'm responsible for at least $1billion. #CHIPOTLEISMYLIFE
#tbt HAPPY FOURTH WEEKEND YALL! #reasonfortheseason
Anyone who has met my parents, would attest to the fact that they are in the top 90 percentile of parenting (right above Prince William & Kate, just below Queen Bey and Jay*). My mom and dad did the best they could with a bratty kid whose only passions were eating Oreos and spending their money. But the fact of the matter is, despite their efforts, childhood failed me. It left me woefully unprepared and misinformed about the harsh realities that accompany life out on your own. A few childhood favorites that set me up failure:
Fridays.
Friday night plans:
Friday night reality:
In other words: “You’re pathetic and you’ll die alone.”
The struggle is real. #summertimesadness
Underratedly Terrible Grown-Up Problems Sure, there are plenty of well-known atrocities that accompany growing up: debt, wrinkles, ineligibility to order off the Kid’s Menu… But there are quite a few that I was simply not prepared for.
Questions to Stop Asking Your Twenty-Something Coworker
What are your hobbies? / What do you like to do in your spare time?
It’s a fan-favorite in interviews, but will occasionally come in up in general office banter. This question takes a close second to "so, why are you single?" for my least favorite question of all time. First of all, what is spare time? I don’t know what that is…? I’m genuinely confused on how so many people have children...Most days I’m barely functioning past 7pm, so I can’t imagine coming home to someone who needs me to like, feed them or something. But on days where I manage to find a free hour that doesn’t involve sleeping, working, eating, or working out (NOT to be confused for a hobby), it usually DOES involve large amounts of pinot noir and E! Network. I mean, you can’t really expect me to answer this question honestly. So I have to give a watered-down PG version that sounds something like:
“Um, I like to read my twitter feed…and books 12 years below my reading level like The Hunger Games, I like to meet new people at the club after 4 vodka sodas, and I enjoy traveling to the mall and spending money I don’t have… just normal stuff I guess!
Got any plans this weekend?
My weekend typically goes one of two ways. It’s kind of like a “choose your own adventure” novel. I either take the anti-social route, or the social-butterfly route. It generally depends on a few key factors like weather, potential amount of fun, whether or not I’ll have to wear heels, level of exhaustion, etc. Either way, to talk about it with you would be uncomfortable. There's a 50% chance I watched the entire season of some show you've never heard of, only leaving the couch for the occasional snack. I’m not proud of it, but it happens. If I opted to throw caution to the wind, and embrace my youth... I probably abused my liver. Definitely NSFW. So each week I'm usually forced to say something like “no plans yet.” You definitely think I’m sort of weird cat lady, but it’s just safer this way.
What's the point of Instagram (or any social media site)?
I can’t help you. If you have to ask, it’s too late for you. I commend you for trying, but there is not enough time in a day.
What are you working on right now?
This is a trap. To answer it would require me to reveal that I have no idea what I’m doing. It’s best to be as vague as possible and throw in some corporate buzzwords (or your industries’ equivalent). My personal favorites are: "synergy", "move the needle", and "game changer." Works like a charm.
My computer's not working, what's wrong with it?
They don't pay me enough for this.
This is a legacy site, be sure to check out americantwentynothings.com!
Dear Checking Account, I’m Sorry.
Every week I make a resolution to stop spending so much money on the weekends. I’m failing miserably. It usually goes something like this:
Friday
Late afternoon, a coworker stops by my desk… “Hey are you coming to Happy Hour?!”
“Um, yeah… Sure!”
I deserve this. Right? I mean, I could stay here for another hour and respond to emails, but… Mojitos. Okay, just one drink. Emails will have to wait. Regards.
So I go. And for a moment, I think I’ve got at all figured out. Look at me, being an adult, and socializing with other adults. See, I don’t need spend a lot of money to have fun…or whatever this is. One drink, seven bucks. Perfect.
Our painfully perky waitress stops by to ask if she “can get us anything else?!,” but before I can say “No actually, I’m headed home to watch re-runs of Full House until I pass out,” Bob from marketing utters five words that change the fate of anyone’s night:
“Yeah I’ll take another one.”
Crap.
“Me too,” says the intern, a little too eagerly.
And it doesn’t take long for the little game of round robin to circle around the table, and it’s my turn. Looks like everyone is going for round two, and I don’t want to be the only one who doesn’t order. “Yeah, okay, sure, thanks.” Jesus, I haven’t felt this much pressure to drink since the entire ninth grade class piled into Chris McAdam’s basement while his parents were vacationing in Bermuda.
Whatever, it’s seven dollars, who cares?
But I quickly realize that two drinks are about all it takes for my filter to lift, and I’m tempted to call out everyone for violating my workplace pet peeves, “Bob, you hum too loudly…Cindy, please stop bringing pad thai for lunch….” Yeah, that’s a bad idea, I need to get out of here.
I think about heading home, but I’ve already invested a few hundred calories, so I might as well “go all in.” No need to waste a decent buzz. I text a few friends and find myself at a pregame for an hour or two before we decide to take a cab to bar across town. “Why is this happening?” I think to myself, wondering if it’s too late for some Full House.
“SHOTS,” shouts someone, and I oblige. I head to the bar, toss the bartender my Visa like it’s a Black Card and I’m one the Kardashians, and he asks yet another fateful question…
“Keep it open?”
It’s important you understand that I suffer from sort of drunken personality disorder, where after a few drinks, I am convinced I’m rich, and want to treat all of my friends to a night of my luxurious lifestyle.
“YEAH, duh.”
Within seconds…”Hey, do yall need drinks? I have a tab!” It’s usually the last thing I remember saying.
Saturday
Sometime around 9am: Oh my god, is the apartment on fire? Why am I so hot? Why am I wearing a dress?
It takes a second for it all to become clear. Oh. Not again. I grab my phone, which somehow managed to make it to the charger, and log into my bank account. Time to assess the damage.
$18 for happy hour, $30 bucks in cabs, $45 bucks at the bar, and a $20 Dominos charge. I ordered pizza?
Over $100. Not great. But, I need to get rid of this hangover, so I mass text “Brunch?!?!” to everyone I know within a 10 mile radius, and wait til I get a response.
Brunch is lovely as always, but it’s only noon, and I’ve got time to kill. I’ll just go to the mall and look. I won’t buy anything. And that’s a great game plan until I find the most amazing pair of shoes I’ve ever seen in my life. I don’t need them. But they are so perfect. I text a picture to a few friends, and all it takes is one “cute!” text, and I’m done. Okay, one thing. That’s it. It’s not the end of the world.
I drive home. When am I supposed to eat next? Brunch is confusing. It’s 4:30. I’m not-not hungry… Chipotle is up here on the corner. But I think I have a Lean Cuisine or something at home.
“..Brown rice, black beans, chicken… guac..”
“It’s extra-“
“I know.”
Saturday’s total: $85. Winning.
Sunday
I decide that if I just lock myself in my apartment, I can’t spend any money. Netflix, here I come. Pour some cereal. Go to grab the milk. No milk. No food, really. The fridge is looking pretty light. Okay I’ll go to the grocery store, then straight back home.
Have you ever been to the grocery store when you’re hungry? I wouldn’t say I’m generally the picture of perfect self-control, but if I’m hungry at the grocery store, all bets are off.
Dried acai berries? Sounds kinda gross, but I probably need them. What’s the difference between steel cut and rolled oatmeal? I’ll get both. Zebra Cakes? They still make these? Yes, please.
I walked out of there spending just under $100, which I’ll take as a victory, because it could’ve been way worse. I hobble up to my apartment, carrying four times my body weight in groceries because I refuse to make two trips from my car. But cooking after all of that heavy lifting seems out of the question, so I grab a Zebra Cake and go back to bed.
So the weekend cost me about $300 (and my dignity, and probably any chance of maintaining healthy blood sugar levels). It isn’t the first time, and won’t be my last. And for that, I am sorry. Kinda.
Probably should just cut these up…
This is a legacy site, be sure to check out americantwentynothings.com!
10 Reasons I Just Can't Be On A Diet Right Now
It’s happened. The Victoria’s Secret catalog is in your mailbox, there’s a definite increase in tanning bed commercials on the radio, and Target has traded out it’s scarves for bikinis. It’s time. Despite the layer of snow on the ground, you come to the realization that your spring break/girls weekend/get-me-the-f-out-of-this-tundra-trip is only a few weeks away. A quick glance in the mirror reminds you that the last couple of months of hibernating with your DVR and a box of Thin Mints hasn’t exactly done you any favors.
After googling “best way to lose ten pounds in two weeks” you realize you only have two options…
1. Give up solid foods and hire Jillian Michaels. 2. Just give up.
Today I’m coming out publicly in favor of option 2. Here are 10 reasons why I just can’t be on a diet right now:
1. No one likes to be friends with the girl on the diet. It’s the worst. You basically are on permanent house arrest. And to the people who say, “Why don’t you just go out and not eat/drink?” UH, I do not trust myself, that’s why. Would you take a person with a gambling problem to Vegas and tell them to just look at the casinos? What kind of sick person are you?
2. Chipotle exists.
Hello lover.
3. I will not give up boozy brunches. Brunch is my religion. Long live mimosas.
4. I’m so sick of Greek yogurt. I bet Greece is over it at this point.
5. Girl Scout cookies are only here for a couple of months of the year. I can’t just ignore them. That’s rude. And I’m really into supporting the community and whatnot.
6. I’m never gonna look like Nina, Lily or Chrissy, so really, what’s the point?
7. Spaghetti squash: you aren’t fooling anyone. To even borrow the name “spaghetti” is disrespectful to pasta lovers everywhere. I’m opposed to food that lies. Kale chips? You are just burnt kale. There is a reason Lay’s doesn’t sell you… You are gross. And you are not a chip. Don’t even get me started on tofu.
8. I cannot go into Whole Foods without dropping $100. I am not made of money. I guess skinniness is a condition for the rich. Bummer.
9. Am I supposed to just stop eating when I watch television? What is Scandal without a glass of wine? House of Cards without stress eating a box of literally anything? Stupid, that’s what it is.
10. McDonalds has announced it’s considering extending breakfast hours past 10:30. Thus I will need to order an egg McMuffin (or three) this weekend as a sign of my support.
Enjoy swimsuit shopping ladies…
This is a legacy site, be sure to check out americantwentynothings.com!
The problem with being twentysomething, is that you’re trying to kickstart a career on top of, you know, finding a life partner. Lots of expectations, and I’m not really interested in just “settling”… in either subject.
You could make the argument that I shouldn’t be so picky on the husband...
HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY TO ALL THE SINGLE GALS OUT THERE!!
There's always next year...
xoxo
Thank God I Was Born in the 90s(ish)
Sure, there are plenty of reasons that being born within 5ish years of 1990 really blows:
"Dating" = opening an app, looking at a person’s picture, and sliding them to your "yes" or "no" pile (that’s why I’m single, okay Grandma?!). [To my older readers, yes this is a real thing. It’s an app called Tinder, and it’s proof that we are a society in decline.]
Obsessive use of WebMd. On any given day, I have about two weeks to live, Have you heard of Pig Flu? I think I have Pig Flu.
Generally, we can’t drive a stick-shift, operate a record player, or use a phone book. Basically, if it doesn’t have a touch screen, we don’t get it.
But the other day it dawned on me, that if I were born literally any other decade of the last century, I would’ve had a very short, miserable life. Natural selection would’ve kicked in, and I would most certainly die churning my own butter, or of a severe paper-cut from my Rolodex. Here are a few reasons why you should remember that you grew up #BLESSED.
There is not a question I cannot answer. As long as you give me eight seconds, I am the smartest person in the room. I use Google at least 19 times a day (sorry Bing). What’s the capital of Sri Lanka? How many ounces in a quart? What’s Justin Bieber’s middle name? Who’s Adele’s baby daddy? I think we forget that our parents and grandparents didn’t grow up in a world where these pertinent questions could be answered instantaneously. Be thankful. (Answers: Colombo, 32, Drew, and a dude named Simon Konecki, respectively).
Maps
I think there are probably only seven times within the last year where I got in the car and actually knew where I was going. I just fire up my Maps app, and we’re good to go… Can you imagine the anxiety of being lost and not having Siri guide you to the light? The horror. Plus, have you tried to read a real map recently? You have to turn them, yourself. With your own hands. Barbaric.
Cell Phones
I mean, this is obvious. But let’s play a game- try and go an hour without using your phone. Half of you are already “out,” because you’re reading this from your phone. I cannot imagine my life sans-cell. How would I tell people that I’m running late? How would I pre-order my Chipotle? How would people understand how good my dinner was if I COULDN’T INSTA IT FROM THE RESTAURANT?! Good God.
And the list goes on…
Facebook: Blind dates used to be a whole lot more “blind.” Terrifying. NO thanks..
Computers: I just don’t understand what people did all day at work? Like, imagine your current job, and now imagine doing it with a typewriter…?
Mobile Banking: Balance a checkbook? Mmm how bout, no.
Netflix/OnDemand/DVR: How did people decide between The Grammys and The Bachelor Wedding if they’re both on at 8?
So, the next time you see your parents, your coworkers, or really any stranger about 30+, give them a hug, tell them you’re sorry. They grew up in a much crueler world.
AND on top of all this, we we were lucky enough to grow up with some the best music this world has ever seen. #TBT
20: The New Toddler.
Each morning I wake up slightly dumber than I was the day before. It's happening to all of us. It's an epidemic. Or a pandemic? I don't remember the difference. You don't either. SEE?! We're dumb.
For years we've believed that we gain intelligence as we age... that's just how it goes, right? Nope.
Theory: You are your least intelligent in your mid-twenties. You are no longer as sharp as when you dedicated eight hours of your day to learning, and you're not old enough yet to impart any sort of wisdom on anyone. Essentially, this is how life goes:
0-5 years old: Be cute, and people will love you.
6-18 years old: Recite some Shakespeare or a couple of periodic elements, and people will be proud of you.
19-22ish years old: Have some beer, and people will like you.
22ish-29 years old: YOU ARE AN IDIOT. EVERYTHING YOU ARE DOING IS WRONG, AND EVERYONE HATES YOU.
30+ years old: Say whatever you want, and people will believe you.
If you have doubts, my twentysomething friends, that we are the dumbest creatures on planet Earth, take some examples from my personal life:
There was once a time that I could use something called the Pythagorean theorem (yeah, idk?!), and now I can't even calculate a 20% tip for the Pizza Hut guy without whipping out my tip calculator app. #idiot
In grade school, I was able to recite all 50 state capitals from memory... It recently took me twenty minutes to remember my SnapChat password. #idiot
I used to write 10 page papers, no problem...Today I went to draft an email and I couldn't even form words. What's the past tense of reach? Reached? Why does that sound funny? The past tense of teach is taught, so the past tense of reach is probably raught, right? Wrong. If it weren't for spell check, I would've been fired months ago. #idiot
AND, apparently your emotional intelligence goes all Benjamin Button too... Last month my dvr didn't record Scandal, and I cried. Like actual tears. I got so worked up that I almost forgot I could watch it on-demand. Tears continued to flow the entire episode. #idiot
I can no longer dress myself. I can't seem to figure out what is an appropriate outfit choice for each of the occasions in my life. Like, I understand that leggings at work are generally a no-go, but like am I supposed to be in "real-person clothes" when I go the grocery store? The dentist? Ugh. Do I need to have a pair of khakis in my wardrobe? I hate khakis. Does adulthood = owning khakis? #idiot
Plus, it's not unusual for me to look like this after a meal. #idiot
PS-
Hey #idiots, I'm on that twitter thing: @20_nothings #chirpchirp
10 Things From Your Teenage Years That You Definitely Don't Miss
This blog is essentially dedicated to whining about life in your twenties. Filing your taxes. Applying for health benefits. Rush hour traffic. Trying to decode if someone is flirting or just being nice. These are all things we must deal with as twentysomethings, and they suck. But a recent trip to the mall reminded me that life as a teenager (might) suck more. I was at Forever21, (probably a sign that I need to just stop shopping there, but they have scarves for like $4. FOUR DOLLARS.) when all of a sudden I realized I was in a swarm of fourteen year-olds. Momentarily blinded by their braces and pink UGGs, and choking on their over-applied Victoria's Secret body spray, I took my scarf and got the hell outta there. Anyway, this (traumatizing) experience got me thinking about things I bet you don't miss from your early teens:
Buying a blue shirt at Hollister, only to walk out and realize it's actually green. Apparently even though they're selling t-shirts that say stupid stuff like "Surf Club" to a bunch of kids who've never been to California for $45, they still can't afford to turn on the lights.
Using your parents as a taxi service. For everything. And hating them when they picked you up too early (omg embarrassing) or too late (did you forget you had a kid, Mom?!).
Low-ride jeans that pretty much started a solid four inches below your hip bones. "I hope I don't have to bend down today." My daily prayer from about 2003-2008.
T9. Running out of texts per month. Flip phones.
Drinking fake drinks from Starbucks. "Um hi, can I have Strawberries & Cream Frappuccino?" YOU CAN, BUT YOU SHOULDN'T.
Lying. "Are Jessie's parents okay that you're spending the night?" Aw, that's cute that you think her parents are gonna be there. "What are you kids up to tonight?" Pictionary..?
Secret liquor cabinet mixology. Okay, so my parents won't notice if I take a little bit from each bottle… So how about I just put them all in one empty water bottle and bring it to the party? Yum.
"Call me when you get there." (except... ten years later I still have to do this.)
Stressing over about which friends would make it in your MySpace "Top 8"... *~ LoVe YoU GiiRlsSs ~*
Smelling like the set of Magic Mike every time you left Abercrombie... and weirdly liking it?
Hey Mom, thanks for being chill about the child pornography on the walls whilst we shop. xo.
A Christmas Wish List for Twentysomethings
Dear Santa,
It's been a few years since we last spoke (thanks again for the Razor Scooter...Christmas 2001 was LEGIT), but this year I have some different things in mind. Please take notes:
Unlimited cell phone upgrades. Asking a friend to borrow an iPhone charger just to realize that my janky iPhone 4 isn't compatible with the new chargers is one of the more shameful experiences I've had in my adult life. I might as well have a flip phone. iNeed a new one, like yesterday.
An Instagram filter that actually makes you look better… "Kelvin" makes me look like I'm on fire, "Amaro" washes me out, and we both know I'm not quite pretty enough to be on Team #NoFilter.
An easy-to-administer gluten intolerance test. If I have to listen to one more friend say: "like, I've been cutting back on gluten, and I feel sooo much better, you should try it!"...I'm gonna lose it. Girl, I know what you ordered at dinner last night; Newsflash, fettuccine alfredo ain't gluten-free. Hush.
A dozen cronuts. Is it a croissant? Is it a donut? Is it in my mouth? No, but it needs to be. Gotta see if it's worth the hype.
Another season of Breaking Bad. I just miss them so much.
A phone setting that asks "are you sure you want to send that?" before each text. And an alert that reminds you that your Mom has a Facebook before you share photos, ugh.
A boyfriend. (Worth a shot.) I heard Ryan Gosling was available?
Drinks that cost less than $8.
More emojis. Recommendations: black people, gay people, a shot glass-- Santa, the options are endless, go crazy. (But it is kinda weird that you get your own emoji, and black people don't have one... )
Netflix. Always Netflix.
