I'm Only Here for the WiFi

I'm Only Here for the WiFi by Chelsea Fagan Page B

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Authors: Chelsea Fagan
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children and a Shetland Sheepdog by the time we’re thirty-one; it just matters that we’re moving in that direction and treating each other with respect and love. You can go to the bar and drunkenly tell someone how much you love him within the first ten minutes of meeting him. You can reach out to a friend who has always interested you, but with whom you never really wanted to risk the frienddynamic. You can suck it up and go on OkCupid, and realize that there is only, like, a 3:10 skeezeball ratio overall on that website.
    And if you don’t want to get married or have kids—or even have a long-term relationship—congratulations, you no longer have to. Whether or not you’re going to hit thirty and suddenly throw it into reverse, like a heavily abused rental car, and decide that you do want to start something concrete with someone, it doesn’t matter now. We are lucky enough to have been born into time when we are not all universally expected to be impregnating/impregnated by the time we reach twenty-five with no real future outside of living vicariously through our children for the rest of our lives. I think it’s easy to forget how amazing it is when someone reminds you, in your twenties, how “young” you are, and how you have “so much time” to be looking for what exactly you want out of life. That is such a huge step forward from pretty much every other point in history.
    I admit that I am biased, in that I’ve known pretty much since I was aware of my surroundings that I one day want to get a ring put on my finger and start spawning, but I have nothing but respect for people who don’t want that. And, to be frank, the world is kind of your oyster at this point if you’re not wed to the notion of finding something serious. So many people out there right now are just looking to date casually, and are totally open about it. Hell, you can even mosey on over to Seeking Arrangement and get yourself a brand-new tacky Lexus while you workon your career or your studies. You have free rein to do so, and innumerable websites with which to locate singles in your area who are looking for a similar ratio of sex–to–actual feelings.
    The point is that it’s the fucking twenty-first century, and there’s no excuse for any of us—no matter what we’re looking for—to be stuck in a situation that isn’t what we want. We can literally meet people from across the globe who can put in a concise little paragraph under a picture of themselves exactly what they want out of the next few years of their life. If you are making excuses as to why you are waiting it out with someone who will magically morph overnight into something you are actually interested in, you are wasting your time in the most painful way. You are never going to be this sexy, this energetic, this free of responsibility again in your life. Now is the time, if there ever was one, to be experimenting and going on dates and only getting serious when you feel like it—or remaining completely romance-free for a while, if that floats your be-vibrator’d boat. We have Grindr now; we are officially in the future we always dreamed of. There is no reason not to be yourself.

F ew things seem more intimidating to a young adult who has gone through his entire life without having to contemplate money in a concrete sense than the prospect of having to manage an entire budget by himself. Both sides of the equation—from consistently bringing ever-increasing sums of income into your bank account, to keeping the spending at a reasonable and sustainable pace—seem unrealistic to keep up for an entire life. Unfortunately, though, money just seems to become more necessary, more complicated, and more tightly wound up with other people as you get older. The days when your money was entirely yours to do with what you like (which mostly just entailed buying a staggering amount of Fruit

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