December was insane. Completely and utterly insane. It went by so fast that I’m a little bit worried I’m in a coma and that all this is a dream and its actually still June 2012 and I’ve been hit by a car because I ran in to traffic to avoid my godawful old job.
The reason I know it isn’t a coma dream? No Jeffrey Dean Morgan. He would so be in my coma dream. LOOK AT THOSE EYEBROWS!!!
So December happened. And it was weird.
I turned 25. On December 17th I officially exited my early twenties and entered my mid twenties and I’ll be perfectly honest, I expected it to have some sort of fanfare and a ceremonial presenting of some sort of argyle sweater vest that indicates that I Am An Adult. Or maybe some sort of acknowledgement that my youth is behind me. Is my youth ACTUALLY behind me? Is there some sort of definitive guide?
Instead, I spent December 17th working. Mind you, it WAS at home and I WASNT wearing pants and every once in a while I would be on the phone with a client using my adult voice and then I would remember that I was definitely wearing only a pair of sequinned blue underwear (IM SUPERMAN MOTHERFUCKERS) and a Newsies tshirt and would end up giggling hysterically.
This was confusing for a lot of the people on the other end of the phone because they were negotiating pricing with me and were attempting to be scary. People with Three Capital Letter titles like to think they are scary.
BUSINESS TIP – when in negotiations, wear sparkly underwear. Trust me. No one can bully you when your ass is shiny.
Now – WHY was I working from home? WELL my pretty readers (and you too, one handsome dude reader who got here accidentally by googling “Hot Dirty Trannies” – seriously, that is our #1 search term. You post ONE picture and BAM you’re porn.)
I was going on a business trip. On my 25th birthday.
To New Jersey.
Small Town New Jersey to make a sales pitch. ON MY 25TH BIRTHDAY.
Instead of going to dinner with Manfriend and eating an inappropriate amount of Sushi, I was hanging out in the airport, waiting for a delayed plane, rage eating chips and glaring at the young jewish man travelling with his mother as he stared in openmouth admiration (?) at the ridiculous amount of cleavage I was showing. (I’ve got to get my boobs out there, at 36DD, chances are excellent they are going to start travelling south like a Canadian senoir heading to Florida in the dead of Winter. THESE ARE THE PRIME YEARS OF MY BOOBS!!)
At 11:59 on my 25th birthday, I was checking in to a creepy as fuck hotel that had only just recently been reopened and boasted “The least amount of water damage in a 20 mile radius”. Was Governor Christie handing out awards for that?
For my 25th birthday, I bought myself some water wings and cheap wine and wondered why I was hanging out in a recently flooded American state.
And I realized: I really AM an adult.