Being 24 (And Why It’s Awesome)

Being 24 (And Why It’s Awesome)

MIND FUCK: 24 was the age all the characters in Friends were when the show started and that’s the age I am now (and have been for a wee while). WHAAAAAAT?

They were so grown up. They had sex, jobs, some money, apartments, relationships, annoying parents, and all sorts of grown up things. They were my idols. Their lives looked incredible. They were 24. And now I’m 24. Yikes.

But it’s a good age, isn’t it? I think it is. Here’s why:


People who are 24 tend to have a job. Studying (URGH) is no longer required. You can go home at 6 and you can switch off — if you want. Because you can stay switched on if you like your job. Either way, you win. Love your job? You’re getting paid to have fun. Hate your job? You still have actual proper guilt-free free time. Also, at 24, you don’t have to feel guilty if you’re not doing your “dream job”. There’s still time.


Gone are the days when you have to be friends with absolute dicks because not having friends looks super uncool. You’re only friends with people you genuinely really like and care about. To be fair, they’re probably a bit dickish too. But dickish in a good way. They call you up on bullshit and keep you on your toes. And you can also be dickish. They forgive you when you make a drunken moron of yourself or don’t text them back for ages or bail on events because you can’t be assed or WHATEVER. You love them and they love you – annoying warts and all. See Peter’s Friends for reference.


So you’re definitely not as self-conscious as you were when you were in your teens. And you’ve sort of come to the realisation that being yourself is alright. You do the things that you think are fun and that’s that. And instead of telling people lies so they like you, you tell them the truth. Although, don’t get me wrong, you probably still hate yourself pretty much 78% of the time, but it’s definitely not as bad as those teen years. Ugh, weren’t they the worst?


I actually don’t want to limit freedom to just being 24/in your twenties. Being free is certainly a lot easier in your twenties, but you have to be free whatever your age. You should always be able to change your mind. Don’t like a job you’ve been doing for 20 years? GET OUT. Don’t want to be married anymore? GET OUT. Had enough of being a parent? Sorry, that one you’re stuck with.

You’re the perfect mix of kid/adult

YOU HAVE THE BEST OF BOTH WORLDS. You don’t have to do what your parents say anymore, but you can still ask them for help.  It’s acceptable to stay in and watch Masterchef every night, but it’s acceptable to go out and get drunk. If you can’t remember the last time you had a home-cooked meal or changed your bed sheets or got 8 hours sleep, people still treat you like an adult! It’s jammy, jammy, jammy.


My dad calls my boyfriend and I “TINKs”. Two incomes, no kids. It’s good, isn’t it? While we both have jobs, neither of us have any responsibilities. I mean, we probably should start saving for the “future”, but it’s a lot more fun eating out, drinking, and going on holidays and things. And it’s not like we don’t have a savings account. We have one, we’re just always taking money out of it. Because we can.

I think there are more good things about being in your twenties, but since I’m in my twenties, I drank a lot over the weekend and I’m sort of dying a little and I really want a crisp sandwich and a Pixar film. Yeah, I’m just going to just end this blog here.


I Don’t Like Being a Grown Up

I Don’t Like Being a Grown Up


Seriously, I want to go back to being the same age as this little guy – look at him, just sitting on the beach playing with his digger! And here’s another one of him trying to eat his feet:


Ah, it must be so fun being nine months old. Just eating (feet, apparently), sleeping and playing. This was actually his first trip to the beach and he really wasn’t sure about it. He just sort of sat on the sand, looking a bit terrified. Then he fell face first into the sand and started screaming, while I proceeded to piss myself laughing.

Worst auntie EVER.

But last week I had to say goodbye to him and come back to Scotland. I really thought I was going to be able to hold it together. I even gave myself a damn good talking to in the bathroom mirror before leaving: Just stay calm. You’ll see them again soon. Distance means nothing when it comes to love (did I seriously just think that?!?!). But then I went downstairs and burst into tears. I couldn’t even say goodbye. It was pretty embarrassing really as my family don’t tend to cry in front of each other…I blame P.M.T.

The journey back was pretty good though. The only tears I had at the airport were tears of boredom, having listened to three hours of my dad’s history stories in the car. But then we went to Tim Horton’s where we got a Nutella donut, and then the pub where we got a double vodka.


And I was sitting next to a really nice, chatty guy on the plane who turned out to be the production manager of the band Belle and Sebastian, who were sitting in front of me. The air hostess LOVED them. She kept winking at the production manager and giving him free drink and then she’d turn to me and be like, “That’s $5.00 for your glass of water.” But whatever, I’m over it. Chatting to the production manager meant that I couldn’t do any of my pre-takeoff rituals to ensure a safe flight, which I was a little panicky about, but we didn’t crash so that was good. Although, I did have to lean back, close my eyes, and breathe during takeoff. It was right in the middle of one of the production manager’s stories so I had to apologise afterwards and tell him that I’m a nervous flyer. He was fine about it – said he used to be pretty nervous too, but now he’s travelled so much, and even been on planes that have been hit by lightning and suffered engine failure. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was a bit horrified at his inability to gauge the situation and realise that that is possibly the worst thing he could have said to me.

In other news, I’ve actually managed to graduate from University:


During graduation, I ended up sitting next to the first person I met at University, which was quite nice. Although, I also went out on a few dates with him at the end of first year, which ended in me awkwardly dodging his kiss. But we just pretended that that didn’t happen and then were absolutely fine. Had some good banter. The rest of the day is pretty hazy. It involved a posh restaurant, my Dad calling me a failure, and LOTS of alcohol. At one point I fell off my stool and squished my scroll so Mum took it home with her.

Sad times.

And since then I’ve just been applying for jobs and looking for flats. It really does nothing for your self-esteem. I feel like I’ve emailed THOUSANDS of people about getting a job or renting a room in their flat, yet I haven’t got so much as a tumble weed back from any of them. I’ve only had one meltdown (OK, I’VE HAD TWO) about it all though, so I do feel as though I’m growing as a person. AND, now I’ve got a flat (a miniscule studio, which I am completely in love with), and an interview! It’s for Marks and Spencer’s so I’m really excited at the prospect of moving up from the SPAR.

I’m definitely going places.