You may have heard about this “How to be a 20-something” article making its way around the Internets. The source is the blog Thought Catalog, a clean and simple site that publishes essay-style thoughts from accomplished writers across all genres. “How to be a 20-something” is written by Ryan O’Connell – one such 24-year-old, East Village-based contributor whose bio reads like this:

Along with creating the Twitter, Being Gay Is Gay, Ryan’s work has been featured in Interview, Black Book, Jezebel, Huffington Post, Street Carnage and Butt magazine. He also manages his personal website, Ryanohh-a blog about boys, music and sometimes The Olsen Twins.

A lot of that bio is very funny, as is much of Ryan’s synopsis on what it is to be 20-something these days. And as you well know, I like funny just as much as the next East coast bred liberal arts grad.

But since turning ancient years old (2-7), this super annoying thing happens when I read commentary from 20-somethings on 20-something life – I go, “come on, it’s not really like that…”

The reality may be that it’s not really like that for me anymore because I’m past the point of being able to go to work hungover, survive off free buffet Happy Hours or date an actor because I’ve haven’t checked one of those types of men off my list. I’ve always been a realist, but a 27-year-old realist and a 22-year-old realist are apparently two different animals.

So I read the article. I LTMed (as in “to myself” not “out loud”). I thought, “that Ryan O’Connell would be really fun to hang out with.”

And then I proceeded to pick apart his 20-something to-do’s using my new-found, no-fun brain. Here’s what that looked like. Apologies in advance to those of you who want everything in this piece to be real. And double apologies to those of you who thought I’d stay 22 at heart slash in mind, forever. Trust me, no one’s more pissed about that than me.

“Be really attractive. Your acne is gone, your face has matured without having wrinkles and everything on your body is lifted naturally. Eat bagels seven days a week, binge-drink and do drugs: you’ll still look like a babe. When you turn thirty, it’ll become a different story but that’s, like, not for a really long time.”

Yeah, but proceed with caution. Being in your 20’s is an excellent excuse to do dumb things because we think you’re invincible. But there’s a difference between doing some dumb things and becoming a dumb person. That difference comes in around your 4th day in a row of arriving at the office hungover, BE&C bagel in tow. The line between crazy-fun and lame screw-up is a fine one, but it becomes niiice and clear once you turn 27/8/9 and take a look at where you are versus people who didn’t lay off the post-grad vices.

Reestablish a relationship with your parents. You don’t live with them anymore (hopefully) so start to appreciate them as human beings with thoughts, flaws and feelings rather than soulless life ruiners who won’t let you borrow their car.

And like whiplash, this one couldn’t be more true. A very long time ago I wrote about the fact that parents are people too, no matter how uncomfortable that may make us. My own parent-to-peer transition is still very much in process (even though I never had a bad relationship with my parents), but it’s worth it at every turn.

Go from eating delicious food at your parents’ house to eating Ragu tomato sauce over Barilla noodles. Develop an eating disorder to save money.

For my first few years in New York I used to claim to do The Special K Challenge every couple of months as a way to maintain my weight. Really it was because eating cereal for two meals out of three is among the only ways to be left enough money each week to go to fabulous restaurants and bars where important people will discover your natural talent and save you from a life of 5th floor walk ups. This is not a fact, but it really, really feels like one when you’re in it.

Move into an apartment on the corner of Overpriced and Dangerous. Sleep on a bare mattress with an Ikea comforter. Your mother talks to you about buying a top sheet and a duvet cover but feel like you’re not mature enough to own something called “duvet.”

Don’t do this. It isn’t necessary and it isn’t worth the mystique of being one of those starving artists who can one-down (opposite of one-up) any crowd with stories about the shitty places they used to live. Agreed on the duvet covers, but not because of the very popular 20-something practice of being against things because they sound too mature. They’re just unnecessarily more expensive.

Read the New York Times piece, “What Is It About 20-Somethings?” Feel exposed and humiliated. Share it on your Facebook with the caption: “Um….” Your friends will comment “Too real” and that will be the end of that.

Yep – did that aaannddd then didn’t shut up about it for awhile.

Work at a coffee shop but feel hopeful about your career in advertising, writing, whatever. Remember that you’re young and that the world is your oyster. Everything is possible, you still have so much to see and hear. You went to a good school and did good things. Figure if you’re not going to be successful, who the hell is?

Yes to the feel hopeful part, and double yes to the world being your oyster and everything being possible. I’m meh on the coffee shop situation only because I think there are more stimulating places to work that can feed your creativity (despite the obvious stimulating + coffee joke).

I know it gets hard when that stimulation messes with your more important career goals, but that’s a dance you’ll have to learn. Regarding this, “if you’re not going to be successful, who the hell is?” Unfortunately any number of people who work harder and faster to get there first. The world is comprised of four kinds of people: brilliant people who get what they want; Dumb people who get what they want; Brilliant people who don’t get what they want; and dumb people who don’t get what they want. It won’t shock you to hear that the first category is almost always the smallest. I realize the point of this section was to say, believe in yourself, you can do it. That is 100% true. What I’m saying is, don’t assume it will happen just because you believe in yourself or just because you can do it. You still have to go get it, and that’s the hardest part.

Date people who you know you’ll never be able to love. See someone for three months for no other reason than because it’s winter and you want to keep warm by holding another body. Date a Republican just so you can say you dated a Republican.

I didn’t understand this when I was 22 and I still don’t now. My take: dating people takes time and effort and emotion and, honestly, money. Don’t do it unless it makes sense. And not, this- will-be-an-insane-story-to-tell-my-future-nieces-because-I’m-obviously-never-having-children sense. I don’t want to fill someone’s warm body void or quirky writer quotient, so I’ve never done the same. Though, several times during the Special K Challenge weeks I thought about dating a banker for the free dinners. Every single girl in New York does – and by that I mean each and every one, not all the girls that don’t have boyfriends.

Eventually all these nobodies will make you crave a somebody. Have a real relationship with someone. Go on vacations together, exchange house keys, cry in their arms after a demoralizing day at work. Think about marrying them and maybe even get engaged. Regardless of the outcome, feel proud of yourself for being able to love someone in a healthy way.

There was a chunk of time when I thought this didn’t have that much value. By that I mean, being in a relationship is good/fun/helpful but not important in the developmental sense. You could/should/will do it, but you don’t need to in order to learn the things you need learn to become a successful healthy adult. I was wrong.

Start your twenties with a lot of friends and leave with a few good ones.What happened? People faded away into their careers and relationships. Fights were had and never resolved. Shit happens.

The truest part of this entire piece. Sometimes we think and act like friendships just happen, and therefore just as easily un-happen. People grow apart, people change, people start to disagree when the big questions of life get put on the table. The reality is that friendships are choices, and maintaining friendships means choosing to do what that takes. Sometimes it’s just as simple as, shit happens, let it be. But sometimes it’s even simpler. Sometimes it’s shit happened, get over it.

Think of yourself at twenty and hanging out with people who didn’t mean a thing to you. Think about writing papers, about being promiscuous, about trying new things. Think of yourself now and your face looking different and your body feeling different and how everything is just different.

I started to, then I got somewhat sad and very nostalgic so I switch to thinking about the cool things I can do now that I’m 27 – like afford a vacation.

Form the habits that will stick with you forever. Drink your coffee with two sugars and skim milk every morning. Buy a magazine every Friday. Enjoy spending money on candles, smoke pot on Saturdays, watch the television before bed.

I will admit that there’s something lovely in having adult habits. I will also admit mine don’t involve smoking pot on Saturdays, even though I now live in California.

Move into a bigger apartment on the corner of Mature and Gentrification and finally buy a duvet cover. Limit your drug-use. If you find yourself unable to do so, start to wonder if you have a problem.

Let’s be honest – 9 out of 10 of us already lived on the corner of Gentrification. I maintain my position regarding the duvet cover.

Have your parents come to your place for Christmas. Set the table, make the ham, wear a sophisticated outfit, This will all mean so much at the time.

I confess that part of my transitioning into being ancient-years-old includes really looking forward to throwing these kinds of dinners. The real confession may be that I think of them as slight modifications to the theme party ragers we threw in college, but so be it.

Think about having children when you stop acting like a child. This may not ever happen. Maybe this is assuming too much. Maybe this is generalizing. Maybe society uses age as an unrealistic marker for growth. Maybe. Still feel the anxiety on your 30th birthday and think to yourself, “Oh shit, I’m no longer a 20-something.”

I thought about it when I transitioning from my early to mid twenties. I thought about it a lot more when I transitioned from my mid twenties to my late. And now at 27, the doom of 30 just three years away, I think about it all the time. What it means to be a 20-something versus just one year into 30. What we give up. Who we give up. What never happened. What will never happen again. And most importantly, what that classification meant in the first place.

I think you can be in your 20’s without being a 20-something – without doing all those stereotypical things that make people roll their eyes when they think of us. I wouldn’t (and didn’t) skip them entirely, and much of me is still nestled into the pre “real adult” existence, but I don’t think of myself as that wavering 20-something anymore. And for some bizarre, uknown, and unexpected reason – I’m okay with that.