downstairs amy emailed me last week to say she was the 25,000 visitor to twenty-nothing.com.

my visceral reaction was "fuck, i haven't blogged in a month."

my second reaction has been another reflection on my twenty-nothing experience -- 25,000 pairs of eyes later.

there is undoubtedly a risk in openly sharing my shit-show twenty-something experience with the four people who regularly read this blog and the 24,996 others who accidentally -- and unfortunately -- come across it. a risk i've tried to hedge by changing the domain name, going by an alias, and dressing in all black. but still perhaps the only commitment i've actually maintained for the last two years.

(for more on my lack and fear of commitment, please see archives 2005-present.)

in one sense, writing about my relationships, friendships, fuckfests, and screwups is therapeutic in that the peer pressure to update my blog forces me to reflect on the twenty-something tribulations that are widespread, but poorly written about, in the twenty-first century. in another sense, i also feel deeply guilty that this forum is completely self-serving, voyeuristic, and egotistical.

and now that i think about it, i'm okay with both.

if anything, my hope is that twenty-nothing (at least until i trick some agent into signing me, and then ill make everyone except my four loyal readers -- hi deion -- buy my book) serves to help others realize that maybe they aren't the dumbest kids in the classroom or boardroom. because those are positions *i* have firmly laid claim to. <>

but when it comes to competitive twinkie-eating and cleavage contests, let's just say that in spite of all other life failings, everyone should claim some areas of expertise.