Around New Years each year I’m reminded of my impending mortality. I feel like 20-somethings today exist in a sort of purgatory between college and settling down where they’re trying to clutch onto their carefree, waning past with roots firmly planted in a 9 to 5. And I mean I’m practically on the brink of 30.
It’s a time where your drink of choice abruptly transitions from Keystone light to red wine but you still feel the need to prove that you can chug like a pro. Where a raging night out ... [Read more]