We’re going to get older whether we like it or not. So the only question is whether we want to get on with our lives or desperately cling to the past.
Ted Mosby (via illfollowthesun16)
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@youngprofessionalproblems
We’re going to get older whether we like it or not. So the only question is whether we want to get on with our lives or desperately cling to the past.
Ted Mosby (via illfollowthesun16)
"You're like Ginnifer Goodwin, but not in the pathetic sense."
My best friend, relating my love life to "he's just not that into you."
Come and show me another city with lifted head singing so proud to be alive and coarse and strong and cunning.
Carl Sandburg, Chicago
Whoops.
Youtube just played an ad for me in Spanish. Since I speak absolutely no Spanish, the only possible explanation is that Google has been monitoring my taco intake. NBD GUYS IT'S FINE.
The guys at Los Tres Panchos know me by order.
-JLDubs
I mean, you'll find someone. It's not like you have any major defects.
A vote of confidence re: my dating life, from a guy friend over lunch yesterday.
When my friends decide to move back to the burbs
I’m all like,
You're more of an autumn.
While working at my last job, in large office building in the loop, I was privy to some rather interesting elevator conversations. On one particularly humid summer day, I overheard a #youngprofessional woman attempting to console her friend. The woman said something like this:
OH MY GOSH no, you shouldn't worry that he hasn't proposed yet! I'm sure he's just considering the timing of it all, you know? I mean, with your hair and your coloring, you're more of an autumn, so he knows you'll have to have a fall wedding, and he probably wants a 9 month engagement, so he'll probably propose in the winter.
My initial response was somewhere between dumbfounded and insurmountable pity. Upon further reflection, I've realized there are a few possible scenarios for more background to this quote. On a scale from literally impossible to the most likely, they go something like this: Scenario 1: This boyfriend is an incredibly style-conscious, straight, metrosexual man who has actually considered his girlfriend's hair color in conjunction with timing his marriage proposal. Odds of Scenario 1: You are more likely to meet a respectable man at John Barleycorn/Clark Street location and marry him than Scenario 1 is likely. It's just not happening. Scenario 2: The boyfriend is a closeted gay man. Odds of Scenario 2: Alright, I was a theatre major in college, so I had more than one friend end up with a gay boyfriend or even fiance. it's possible, but I hope for the Autumn's sake that this is not the case. Scenario 3: The boyfriend either (1) is not ready to propose or (2) is not planning on proposing, and the #youngprofessional friend is spewing whatever she can think of to assuage her friend's anxiety. Odds of Scenario 3: I personally would bet my alcohol budget for a year on Scenario 3. (That's a lot of money.)
I get it. Girlfriends are supposed to be there for each other and comfort each other. But this is just ludicrous. Do girls actually think like this? Can love make you so delusional that you would actually believe an explanation like this? While my social circle tends to weigh heavy on the bro-side (thanks, all-male a cappella groups!), I have a handful of good female friends. I believe it is my obligation* to be realistic with them about unhealthy dating relationships or irrational future expectations, rather than defend and champion "love" when I can obviously see that something isn't working. As young professionals, we want to see our peers succeed in all areas of their lives, but when things aren't going down that road, isn't it part of our yuppie struggle to just be real with one another?
*Don't worry, girlfriends, I also believe it is my obligation to take you out for a night of heavy drinking and dancing if and when things don't work out with mr. right.
I'll see ya at the bar,
jldubs
We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be.
Kurt Vonnegut
I know I'm old because I still buy CDs.
overheard in the office, from my 33 year old coworker.
Twentysomething Success
Being a twentysomething, it's common to have friends at a range of life stages. As somebody who has a moderate sense of direction (read: career's going great! love my apartment! love my friends! so single my mom tries to set me up with any and every straight guy between 18-35 that she meets!), this is very comforting.
Let's take a couple of my dates from high school homecoming dances for a few examples of where you might be in your twenties.
My freshman year of high school homecoming date is getting married tomorrow to his college sweetheart. He's a music teacher and she's a consultant. They are having a black tie wedding at a fancy hotel.
And then...
There's my junior year of high school homecoming date. He is currently a house guest on the TV show Big Brother. He wears tshirts with cats on them, and somehow has a major fan following and is an early favorite to win it all.
If you want to follow this crazy ginger, watch Big Brother and vote for Andy for MVP, or become a Fandy by following him on Facebook or Tumblr. Shameless promotion for a shameless friend.
This, my friends, is proof that there is no one singular definition of success in your twenties. I hope you find happiness, whether it may be in love or in reality TV.
At least both are good reasons to drink, JLDubs
CTAnnoying.
I have the best possible scenario for a public transit commute: Reverse Commuting on the Purple Line. Yep - it's express, it's not overcrowded, and it very rarely smells like pee. Thanks to my commute, and the Kindle my brother got me for Christmas, I've become an avid reader (this is coming from the girl who literally didn't buy textbooks in college because, I mean, what was the point if I wasn't going to crack them open anyways?).
Now, as any good Chicagoan knows, there is certain el etiquette. Don't put your bag on the seat next to you, when the train is crowded step into the center aisle rather than in the doorway, give up your seat for anyone who looks old enough that they cannot send a text message, etc. While these things were certainly a strugglebus (struggletrain?) on my last commute (Red Line from Fullerton to State/Lake... Yeah I know, it was awful), they are not much of a problem on the glorious purple line. But you know what IS?
People who talk on the phone on the el during rush hour.
I'm not talking about the "Hey honey, I'll be home by 6" or the "Pequods? Yes I'd like to place an order for delivery." These things I get. What drives me crazier than Melissa Joan Heart is people who feel it is appropriate to carry on serious fights with their boyfriend or rehash their last two weeks to their mother over the phone while the rest of the train listens along. All I want to do is read my young adult sci-fi fiction novel in peace. I cannot wrap my head around how people think this is socially acceptable. Everyone on the train agrees with me. I would rather watch the Lindsay Lohan movie "Just My Luck" than get stuck sitting next to you on the train.
If you somehow still have friends after being one of these people, please call them on the walk home or from the privacy of your own apartment. Thanks!!!!!
Honorable Mentions for Worst CTA Offenses: -Puking on the train -Eating a delicious smelling breakfast sandwich when I really want one -People who commute every day and still don't understand that the first and last cars are the least crowded
CTA Transgressions I'm Totally OK with: -People who start dance parties after 9pm on Friday or Saturday nights ...yep ok that's it.
Ugh. 'Foodie.' I hate when people call themselves that. It's like, I get it. We all like food. We all like good food.
Couldn't agree more with my officemate, Blair.
When you're really excited to get a manicure during your lunch hour, and then you remember you scheduled a conference call for that nonprofit board committee you're chairing, and you're like
When all your coworkers call in sick to go to the Blackhawks parade and you have to hold down the office while all your friends are snapchatting you from Grant Park and you're just like
In Defense of the Exclamation Point
I am, possibly to maybe, a very positive person. I tend to opt for cheer and enthusiasm whenever they are even mildly appropriate (and, occasionally, even when they are not). While nobody in the adult world has yet to indicate that there is anything wrong, per say, with this attitude, I am quickly realizing that I am certainly the minority*.
I try to share my enthusiasm whenever possible, whether that be giving a high five and a thank you to my CTA conductor on my way off the train in the morning, cheering for a coworker who completes a meaningful or menial task, or rallying my friends as the resident Woo-Girl in an effort to actually leave the apartment pregame and go to a bar.
And you know where the easiest place to slip in some extra enthusiasm is?
Email.
Apparently, being a professional means removing any sense of spirit or congeniality from your written communications. I just don't get it. When you receive an email from your boss where the punctuation is all dashes, commas, and periods, don't you freak out a little bit and wonder what you did wrong, even though the content is generally positive? WHY IS THERE NO SALUTATION? WHERE'S THE FINAL "HAVE A GREAT DAY!" ?" AM I GOING TO BE FIRED? OMGTHEYAREREPLACINGMEWITHTHEINTERN.
And with that, I submit that every email that is not written with intentionally condescending or frustrating undertones should contain exclamation points! Seriously. Seriously! All it takes is an extra line above your terminal punctuation mark to take your email from I mean, the work you did was acceptable... to Hey buddy! Thanks for getting that in on time and the way I wanted it! We'll keep you around.
Let's look at a very brief case study: Email 1: Dear Jamie, That is fine. Best, Your Colleague
Email 2: Dear Jamie,
That is fine! Best, Your Colleague
Which one makes you feel better? Email 2!!! You got it. And if you really want to make someone feel appreciated, throw in a "Have a great day!" instead of a "best."
While it may not be work-appropriate to slip in an emoji, or while we all know how creepy it is to get a ;-) from that person you've only met once at a conference, you can bet your bottom dollar that an ! is a safe way to make someone's day a little less outlook-how-depressing-my-cubicle-is.
Cheers! jldubs *Except at Red Frog which literally breeds happiness. With a sense of sarcasm there, you are practically a curmudgeon.
I've been meaning to start a blog for months. Multiple different wordpress sites have been started and abandoned, such as "Let's Drink More Beer: A Women's Guide to Life" and "The Perks of Being a TwentySomething."
After the mad success of my facebook hashtag #youngprofessionalproblems (yeah, I was hashtaggin' on the fb before it was even a thing), I realized my best qualification as a blogger stems from sharing my failures to emulate the adult life.
WITH THAT, and the inherent obsolescence of blogs in the age of #instagram and #snapchat (my laziness is aided by the increasing illiteracy of the millennial generation), I give you
#YOUNGPROFESSIONALPROBLEMS
gif source: pandawhale.com (yeah, that's a real site)