Twentysomething Thoughts

The following post contains twentysomething thoughts unique to my own experience, inspired by a real-life middle-of-the-night existential crisis. 



Does anyone still feel like they’re perpetually sixteen? Or is it just me?

Should I know how to do [insert random thing you don’t know how to do] by now? (For me, personally? I don’t know how to change a tire. Or the oil. Or fix a toilet or a toaster. Or anything.  Isn’t that what AAA is for? And management? Or am I pathetic?)

Do I look “old?” Or could I pass for a college junior/senior? I mean, I am in grad school… it’s still school, am I right?

I think I look old. I spot crow’s feet. I need moisturizer, stat!

I remember when I was in high school and my friends and I were just sittin’ around chattin’ during lunch about our futures, and I remember thinking, okay, by the time I’m 24/25 there will definitely be a guy I’ve either married or am about to marry, and I’ll have a real job, and maybe a little house and for sure a dog or two, and I’ll be thinking about kids by the time I’m thirty, for sure. 

Isn’t that hilarious?

I mean, if you do have that–good for you. Truly. That’s awesome.

I just can’t imagine that right now. For me, at least–it’s scary. So permanent.

I do have a dog. Ellie. That’s something. My goodness, I love her. Do you want to see a picture? You do? Okay, then! Here you go:

Back to this permanence thing–I think that’s what scares me most. As I’ve grown older, I’ve discovered I like things to change, I like to move around and mix it up. My dreams change, my address changes, my taste in clothes changes, etc.

So when it’s time to “settle down,” will I be ready for it? Could I live in one place forever and ever? Could I do the same thing every day forever?

Is anyone ever really ready for it?

Shouldn’t I be content with permanence? Shouldn’t routine be a comfort? A joy? Only some are lucky enough to have it, I guess.

Okay, this next one is serious:

Do I need a signature shade of lipstick?

The thing is, even though I’m mostly just a chapstick kind of gal, there’s a part of me that loves the idea of a signature lip shade, perfume, scarf, etc. Having a signature anything–now that’s something, isn’t it? Isn’t that the epitome of being a grown-up, a woman in charge?

Maybe I’ll look into it. The signature lip, I mean.

What if I always feel unsure of everything? Why do I always say, “I’m sorry,” or “I don’t know,” after every dang sentence? I’ve noticed I try to qualify everything that comes out of my mouth. I know what I think; why do I feel like I have to apologize for thinking it?

You know what’s sad/funny? I’m obsessed with presentability. I want every aspect of my life to be presentable. Acceptable.

It’s funny because I claim not to be.

I want to be acceptable. Normal. Me. My apartment. My clothes. My car. My bag. The stickers on my laptop.

Am I too old to have stickers on my laptop?

Is anyone ever really “too old?” I mean, whenever I say, “I feel so old,” to my mom, she just rolls her eyes and says, “Kaila. You are not old.”

And I don’t think she is either.

Don’t we all want to get super, super old? Isn’t that the goal, ultimately? So why do we worry about the whole age thing? Shouldn’t people just be people no matter the number of years they’ve lived?

So there’s no “too old,” or even a “too young,” right? Or is there?

I don’t know.

There I am, saying (typing), “I don’t know,” again. Oops.

One thing’s for sure: I am in my twenties, and I have no idea what I’m doing most of the time.

Except for quesadillas. I know how to make quesadillas. And pasta. And scrambled eggs.

And that’s something.


Valuable Lessons I’ve Learned From My Dogs

Hello there, everyone! If you’re new to reading my posts, WELCOME! I’m so excited for you to be here. I just have a feeling we’re going to be good friends. Really good friends. As a token of my thanks for your readership, I would buy you all one of those cute mini Frappuccinos if I could. Alas, I’m a poor college student. So… sorry about that. But go get one of those in celebration, anyway; they’re extremely cute and quite tasty.


Since I’ve been home for the summer, My dogs have been the best company. I miss them so much when I am away at college, so while I’m home, I savor each slobbery kiss, exuberant tail wag, and pathetic puppy dog gaze. Their names are Kasper (the little white one) and Snoopy (the sweet one. I’m biased). Here are pictures of them:

“Hi. I’m here to melt your soul with my sweet, gentle eyes.”

You can learn a lot from dogs. Since I’ve been home, I’ve been quite observant of my dog’s behaviors in particular–in my observations, I’m also drawing conclusions on how to be a decent human being.

Here are some lessons I’ve learned so far:

Be Selfish 

You read that right. Kasper is the king of selfishness. He goes quite overboard in the selfish department, actually; I’m talking about being selfish in moderation. Take a cue from Kasper and have some “me time.” When you’re rewarded a “cookie” (a.k.a. dog treat), savor that “cookie” till the very last crumb. Don’t feel the need to justify your enjoyment of your “cookies,” the things you love. Love them and protect them and growl at anyone who gets too close. Be selfish; enjoy what you enjoy and take time to enjoy it.

In Kasper’s case, the things he enjoys are cookies and sleep. Believe me, he takes the time to savor both. Take your time to savor what you love and don’t feel guilty.

Be Loyal to Those Who are Loyal to You

Snoopy is seriously the czar of loyalty and protection. He loves our whole little family–when my mom heads to work in the morning, he’ll stand watch between me and my sister’s rooms. He watches us as we sleep; it’s creepy, but he just loves us so much. He’s being loyal to the hands that feed him, to the humans that love him, to the owners that talk incessant baby talk to him. Be loyal to those who “feed you” and “give you belly rubs” (Analogies. Metaphors. These are not literal, just so we’re clear). Be like sweet Snoop and show loyalty to those who are loyal to you.

Snoop. You can’t read, but I love you, buddy.

Chase Your Own Rabbits

See previous post here, where I talked about Kasper’s most endearing habit that happens to be sort of inspiring.

Wag Your Tails

Who can’t help but smile when puppies wag their tales? Their happiness is contagious. Your happiness can be contagious, too; smile at someone today and everyday as if your wagging your own tail. You never know, you could be making someone’s day.

Kas has the funniest tail–it’s like a fluff ball at the end of a pig’s curled tail. Snoop has a stub, so when he wags his tail his little butt tends to follow suit.

They make me smile when they wag their silly tails. Smile your goofy, silly, amazing smiles just as my puppies wag their odd little tails. Happiness can be contagious.

There you have it! Now go live your life like little puppies. I would skip the inappropriate sniffing, however.