You know, when I got the opportunity to start this column and came up with the idea for Hold My Beer, I Lost My Keys, I was over the moon about the thought that any wisdom I’ve accumulated while attempting to walk the tightrope of being a responsible adult and self-assured child with a credit card could be valuable. However, what followed this feeling of self-inflation was some of the most mind-numbing writer’s block I’ve ever had. So I did what any post-adolescent Victorian would do: I went to the beach and drank like my column was already written and trapped under all this damned beer.
Justifying it to myself that if Hunter S. Thompson could write on Chivas Regal, cigarettes, cocaine, acid, and apple fritters, I should be able to just breeze by on craft beer and sunburns.
Of course, I was wrong, and now I’m writing this an hour before deadline with a hangover and sand in my toes.
But that really is what this column is about. Here I am sweating over the fact that I can’t think of any stupid mistakes I’ve made so you don’t have to, and I’ve gone and made one in the pursuit of past fuck-ups! I still got it. After all, this column needs an introduction, and what more of an appropriate start could there be?
So, to summarize, throughout this semester I will be presenting real, innocent, and embarrassing mistakes I’ve made throughout my life, and exploring how I’ve rationalized, deconstructed, and learned from the experiences to better my understanding of “adulting,” as the hip kids are calling it.
From mastering Tinder to conquering taxes, I’ll be letting you in as to why you shouldn’t feel so bad about forgetting someone’s name on a date or parking in a bus lane. You’re not alone—we all make mistakes, and reading about mine might make your day a little brighter in a weird, sadistic kind of way. In today’s column, we learned that I am not Hunter S. Thompson (although, on a lot of levels, he wasn’t exactly a model to begin with) and that it’s best to celebrate, or admit defeat, after the fact. After all, Phillips may make great beer, but they make a really shitty writer.
Until next time, don’t do anything that I would do.