Whine alert: Please do not read this blog if you’re someone who wants to read all the reasons why it’s like so totally amazing to be a 20-something living in NYC. Please, let’s be honest here for a second. Those seasoned, experienced women we hear say “I’m so glad I’m not in my 20s anymore” – well, they’re right. At least, IMHO. Your 20s are this strange time where you’re not in college, but you’re not 30. Profound musings, I know. But think about it. You’re not in college. You’re not the much-feared 30. You’re just… 20 something. I don’t think it’s all that great. Here’s why: Read the rest of this entry
I consider myself to be a pretty lucky person when it comes to my college experience. While I made a handful of bad decisions, I also made a handful of amazing friends and even more great memories. I’m fortunate enough to have some best friends living in the same city and I get to see them and sling back cocktails on regular basis. Even more fortunate though, I have friends in other cities who I get to see for reunion weekends. We started the summer after sophomore year and have continued this, with pretty much the same crew, for the last 7 years. This past weekend was one of those Geneseo reunions.
Last year, we hit up Saratoga, NY for the Tom Petty concert and a weekend of sunbathing, shots and no showers. This year, we changed scenery and crossed state-lines to the fist pumping capital of the world, New Jersey. My friend Joey is one of those rare non-NY residents who opt to attend a SUNY school. Thanks to him, we did a good job tearing our way through Belmar last weekend.
As I reflect on the weekend, I realize there are certain behaviors that only come out – and are only acceptable – when you’re in the company of college friends. While I regularly see plenty of college friends who live here in NYC; something extra special happens when our visits become occasions. And this weekend, dear readers, was an occasion. Behold, the debaucherous behaviors:
To celebrate Memorial Day weekend, I did what most New Yorkers do… I left the city. Friday afternoon, I boarded a flight to the beautiful city of Rochester, NY.
In my past life, I spent 4 years in a small town outside of Rochester (for college… what up Geneseo?!) followed by 2 1/2 years living in what is called “downtown” Rochester. Those 2 1/2 years were interesting, for lack of a better word. It’s a miracle I stayed friends with the 3 girls I shared a house with those first few months (hey friends, I know you’re reading and I love you :D). Then I lived in possibly the greatest apartment in the entire world (AKA Pink Paradise), I got my first real job, fell in love, learned how to take care of myself and be an “adult” — all while living 350 miles from home. Needless to say, the city of Rochester will forever tug at my heartstrings.
I was excited to head back for the weekend. It’s been about 7 months since my last trip, and that visit was a quick one-nighter en route to my friend’s wedding in Buffalo last fall. I had a laundry list of things I wanted to do and thanks to my hostess (and college roommate) Erin, I was able to accomplish most of it.
Quick synopsis: Read the rest of this entry