My 25 Before 25

I recently turned 24. As I prepare to lay the first quarter of my life to rest, I wanted to make a list of 25 things to do before I turn 25. (I know you see what I did there.) Here it is in its full, overly personal glory:

1. Throw caution to the wind. Not saying I should go all Johnny Knoxville on life, but now is an ideal time to cultivate a massive reservoir of nutty, adventuresome bedtime stories for my future grandchildren. I usually play it safe, but I will deliberately take more chances, make more mistakes, and rub up more uncomfortably against the gnarly bristles of youth. And if anyone asks, I'll tell them it's all in preparation for responsible grandparenting.
    
2. Embrace the Rule of Three. Learn how to make 3 crowd-pleasing potluck dishes, concoct 3 go-to cocktails, pick out 3 solid bottles of wine, store 3 pieces of reliable fodder for small talk, identify 3 favorite movies/books/bands, etc. You get my drift. This is my way of incrementally crawling towards the booze-filled dinner party abyss that is adulthood.
    
3. Love my body, once and for all, which goes hand in hand with Enjoy the last year of being able to blame that lingering inch on baby fat and Develop a lasting exercise habit. I refuse to let a fear of mirrors and buffets tyrannize the rest of my life!
    
4. Give my cultural upbringing a big, fat, forgiving hug. Of the immigrant populations, Korean-Americans are a relatively new, rogue bunch. We may have found ways to elbow our way into the upper-middle-income bracket and onto your television screens at shocking speeds, but our collective identity still needs a lot of teasing. Though Korean-America's idiosyncrasies are often at odds with the general ebb and flow of things here in the States, they have made me who I am. I'm learning to embrace my cultural duality and the benefits of my heritage.
       
5. Ask a guy out. Preferably a stranger. By no means is reverse courtship my preferred method of interaction with the opposite sex, but I want to score once so that I can cruise through the rest of my life knowing that I'm perfectly capable of it.
    
6. Throw an epic goodbye party for any remaining resentment or unforgiveness I have towards my parents/relatives. I'm dead serious. Any venue suggestions? I'm thinking BYOB ("Bring Your Own Baggage").
    
7. Purge my life of toxicity. Toxic people who are quick to label, who are flighty or superficial, who engender spiritual infirmity, whom I can't seem to fully trust no matter how many good nights we share -- those especially. Also, no more mingling with people who've pressed the "pause" button on growing up and numbed themselves silly instead. Crowds of beautiful LA people are especially good at this as well as various forms of fraternization and social climbing. They may even do all the right things -- own major assets, practice spirituality, and hold down jobs advising others on how to live their lives -- but those embellishments can be deceiving. 
     
8. Start a travel fund. For two years I've been nursing a wretched hangover from taking too many swigs from the jar of blissful college-age ignorance. Somehow, in between gags, I began exploring what it means to "cover my financial bases" (which, given my meager salary, is basically code for: a laughable attempt at short-term security, as evidenced by a portfolio truly not worthy of any mention whatsoever). That's all fine and dandy, BUT I forgot something important: travel. Above all, traveling is what ultimately injects your life with flavor and a positive return on investment. If I want to make world domination exploration a priority, I need to start saving up. Now. 
    
9. Outlaw "Dude","Yo", and "Like" from my vocabulary. I cringe every time someone over the age of 25 uses these words. It won't be easy to shake off. Because I'm a Korean-American who came of age in the Greater Los Angeles area, such utterances are deeply embedded in my vernacular. Why this is I do not know.
    
10. Embrace alone-ness and loneliness. I'm comfortable with doing things solo but I'm not comfortable with loneliness -- which is strange given that "lonely" is something that I have felt with vacillating intensities my entire life while "alone" is a state I've rarely been in. As I move out by myself and proceed to graze heartily in the land of singleness, I will practice accepting when I feel lonely and discovering healthy ways to turn it into a growth-fostering sense of solitude.
     
11. Rid my closet of the outdated clothes I cling on to with a dogged hope. I'm giving myself 10 months to finally admit that I will never return to my pre-college weight. See #3.
     
12. Tweak my beauty routine. In order to age out of your early twenties with grace, you have to a.) cut down on minutes spent primping in front of the mirror every day by finding more holistic ways to accentuate your natural beauty, and b.) invest more time and money on periodic upkeep to maintain the health and texture of your hair/skin/nails/etc. Shortcuts are no longer sustainable. Try as I may, I cannot change the way I look nor can I always be Facebook Tag-ready, so alls I can do is focus on bridging the gap between Made-up Audj and No Makeup Audj. Currently they aren't on speaking terms.
     
13. Move out.
      
14. Grieve a permanent loss of control. During your first quarter century, you're brainwashed into thinking that anything is possible if you put your back into it. They never tell you that the next three are spent acquiescing to the reality that a) your ego is prey of the jumbo shrimp variety and that b) you can't control anything at all. It's not a bad thing per se, but it gets ugly when good people do bad things because they crave control, taking it out on spouses, children, coworkers, or their own bodies -- scrambling to dominate something, anything. We try to tip the scales in our favor either through these defense mechanisms or through hard work and vigilance, but at the end of the day, outside forces always prevail. You're only responsible for your response.
      
15. Become a playlist goddess. Mood-themed playlists? Not practical. Pandora? Fails me on the regular. How about some playlists for the real-life situations I frequently find myself in? For cleaning my room. For online shopping. For wrapping gifts for people I don't particularly like. For feeling invincible. For waiting for a text response. For forcing myself to get excited about going out. For pretending I'm an opera singing cowgirl stuck in outer space. For writing blog posts I will probably regret five years later. And so on.
     
16. Integrate writing into my weekly routine. Possibly to continue writing blog posts I will regret five years later. Hopefully while listening to a playlist especially designed for the occasion.
     
17. Come up with a good answer to "What do you like to do in your free time?"  My current answer: "Browse blogs? Exfoliate my body? Instagram my dog? Play air guitar to the Eagles? Peruse the aisles at Trader Joes?" I suppose I could say I like to hike, read, practice Korean/Spanish, snowboard, or handmake cards...but if I don't do it every 1-2 weeks, I feel like a phony. However, in sucking at answering this frequently asked question, I am doing myself (and the 150,000+ waking hours I've lived) a supreme disservice. I have to do a better job at cultivating my hobbies and asserting them with confidence.
    
    
18. Numb myself before it stops being socially acceptable to do so.  A few last huzzahs won't hurt. (I do realize I am contradicting #7 here. Clearly I am a complicated person.)
    
    
19. Develop a habit of indulging in aesthetics. I want to weave the consumption of live performances, readings, literature, exhibits, and other intellectual productions into my monthly diet. Sounds glamorous and easy enough, but I've learned the hard way that it's not -- especially when you have a gazillion competing interests and little (to no) friends who are into the same things you are. But it's adapt or die, peoples. Must routinely engage all five of my senses before I keel over from sensory-cultural malnutrition.
     
20. Enjoy the last year during which it is completely acceptable to eat a Snickers bar for brunch, Lean Cuisine frozen meals for dinner, and Thai delivery for a 2:00 AM supper. Relish every last diabolical bite.
     
21. Memorize the things I do even though I know I will regret them afterwards. (Some examples: Pasta. Responding to his texts. Triple Patron shots. Buying too-small articles of clothing thinking that I will lose weight. All-nighters. Obnoxiously large birthday dinners.) Ingrain this list in my mind and review it every day, because I always seem to forget that the last ten attempts were promptly followed by remorse and self-loathing. Magical selective amnesia?
     
22. Stop crowdsourcing my life decisions. Suppress the instinct to validate my behavior through others' advice. Advice F's S up all the time. Mind you, I've gotten some of the BEST advice from my sage friends, but when I'm constantly comparing what I did or want to do with what people think I should do, I'm forgetting how to fend for myself. 
     
23. Perfect the act of professional gift giving. When it's not just your parents who are sending season's greetings to their caregivers, community contacts, and professional networks, you're starting to make some headway towards true adulthood. I'll do a practice run this year.
     
24. Try not to fall in love...unless it's with myself. My friend and I use "RFP" to describe a girl who has evolved to become "Ripe For Picking" -- ready for an awesome relationship because she is self-assured and mature enough to be one kickass girlfriend and one hell of a good time. A girl that no guy in his right mind would snooze on. I am not her...yet. Until then, I will try not to become too intertwined with anyone. There's no way he'll be the best since I myself am not yet at my best.
     
25. Take stock of all the shameful, messed up things I've done. Stop to think about all the people who love me nonetheless. Thank God. Do something nice for each and every one of them.