having moved back home to dc for the summer, more people have asked about the demise of twenty-nothing.com in the last two weeks than i've thought about it in the last two years.

perhaps the untimely downfall of twenty-nothing was a result of growing pains. perhaps it was a result of admitted self-defeat. or maybe it was a result of just not having enough real conversations spoken in confidentially that are worth writing about under the guise of oh-i-made-that-up.

call it fate. call it deep-seeded narcissism. or call it voyeuristic. whatever it is, i have something to say and why reduce it to 160 characters in a text message sent to a handful of friends when i can share it with a whole bunch of people i don't even know?

after the longest silence since twenty-nothing.com's inception, i was not necessarily searching for some form of inspiration this morning when the motivation to reopen the darkened hallows of my twenty-nothing experience struck.

for the first time, someone was up-front with me about my blog. there is some discomfort about a catholic-ish latina chick -- who has been given every opportunity in life -- whining about admittedly petty issues.

and here's what i have to say: you're right.

i'm not hungry (unless i'm on a self-imposed diet). i'm not homeless. i'm not discriminated against (well, to the extent that latinos can make such an assertion). and -- thank goodness -- i'm lacking for pedicures either.

indeed, by all measures, as a bright, personable, and overachieving individual, i should have little to "whine" about. you're right.

... so then why am i not happy?

in spite of parental concern and economic advantage, many fellow twenty-somethings suffer from readily apparent emotional complications: addictions, anxiety disorders, depression, eating disorders and other self-destructive behaviors like bad blonde highlights. we are perplexingly unhappy. we are aware -- and often hastily reminded -- that we are privileged.

and i think that's the point.

as a twenty-something in the twenty-first century, the bottom line is i still feel like something is missing.

it is tempting to trivialize the problems of twenty-somethings who have been liberally handed both material and educational opportunities. but despite being a model of competence (well, my peers in both business school and law school may disagree with this self-description), twenty-six and one-half years into my life, i still lack a fundamental sense of who i am and what the fuck i am doing.

at the end of the day, the fact that deion's car and every important possession to his twenty-something life (cell phone, wallet, ipod, GPS, bar-bri books) was stolen *may be* a "petty" issue. so may the fact that my uncle tried to commit suicide on my birthday this past december. or the fact that i was sexually assaulted the same week.

so may be being honest to myself and others about the fact that i had never had an orgasm. until recently. (apologies to former hook-ups and ex-boyfriends.)

and well ... maybe all of that is petty.

but i'm into heavy-pettying.