Now, we’re stuck. The idyllic ease of our childhoods has turned us into incompetent and self indulgent adult-children. We thrive on our hedonistic listlessness. We’re screwed, and we’re screwed up. Here are just a few things that make us the worst.
• iPhones.I don’t have an iPhone. Everybody else does. I think they’re cool, and, if someone gave me one as a gift, I’d be okay with it. But iPhones are really the worst. I guess I mean smart phones in general. The Internet has done enough to ravage my generation’s emotional carcass and iPhones have proceeded to pick at our bones, gnawing away any integrity we still had clinging to us. I know they’re not going anywhere, but can we stop using so many apps? Ugh, actually, I think there are a lot of cool apps out there. I guess I just really wish I had an iPhone. Mom, are you reading this?
 
• Nostalgia.I get it. Being a kid was awesome. Remember Tamagotchis? Remember when the first Harry Potter book came out? Remember how it felt to skin your knee and climb trees and get nine hours of sleep each night? Remember back before everything kind of sucked? I remember, too, but we’re not kids anymore. Let’s stop talking about Pokemon and light-up sneakers and spelling tests. I don’t know what’s so bad about it. It just bums me out. Let’s stop doing things that bum me out.
 
• “Crazy.” Let’s stop making mental illnesses commonplace. Just because you procrastinate doesn’t mean you have ADD. Mood swings don’t make you bipolar. Getting sad after watching “Titanic” isn’t depression. Don’t call someone “schizo” because they got angry once. Don’t call your ex “crazy” because he or she expressed his or her emotions openly. Genuinely crazy people exist, and we should show them the decency of letting them lay claim to their label. At the same time, seeking help doesn’t mean you’re weak. Take “crazy” seriously, especially if your brain starts to feel a little broken.
 
• Gluten. To be honest, I’m still not absolutely positive about  what gluten is. I’ve had it explained to me at least a dozen times, and all I’ve learned is gluten is basically the common uniting factor for all things delicious. I don’t understand why everyone’s suddenly allergic to something so good. Why would you purposefully deprive yourself by going on a “gluten-free” diet? Okay, okay, I know there are health advantages, but there are health advantages to lots of things I don’t understand. (Yoga? Almond milk?) Let’s stop freaking out about gluten. Eat some cookies. You’ll feel better.
 
• Feeling old.I complain about feeling old at least once a day. What’s that about? I’m 21! Twenty-somethings love to complain about feeling old. I’ve been through a lot, okay? College is really hard. I can’t find a job or a boyfriend, my future seems dauntingly bleak and I’m getting fat. Nobody’s getting enough sleep and I just feel old. I’m too young to feel old, though. When I look back at my life, I think 60-year-old me is going to hate 21-year-old me. I don’t blame her. I’m being a real d-bag.
 
• “White Girl Problems.”Or “First World Problems” or any variety of the assorted “problems” genre. As if we weren’t self indulgent enough as a generation, let’s glorify our own complacency. It is funny, and I catch myself calling people out on their “First World Problems” all the time, but what does it matter? Yeah, the world’s a harsh place. People are starving somewhere. I think it’s really sad — I do — but does that mean I can’t enjoy this cheeseburger without the shabby aftertaste of guilt lingering behind? Don’t call me out on my problems. I’ve still got a few more years of ignoring them left in me.
 
• Zooey Deschanel.In creating herself as the ultimate Manic Pixie Dream Girl, Zooey built a mold none of us can fit. Her self-awareness of her quirkiness is now just a part of her charm. We can thank Zooey for an army of young women in ill-fitted thrift store dresses and thick bangs playing Nancy Sinatra songs on their ukeleles from the swing-sets of playgrounds across America. In calling herself a “dork,” she sets an impossible standard for other women. If she’s a “dork,” then I’m some sort of social pariah. Ugh, just shove me in a locker already. I’ll never be a Zooey.
 
• Bro.Please stop saying bro, bro. You’re killing me. You’re really killing me, bro. (Bro, seriously, bro, stop, bro bro bro.)
 
• LOL.No, you’re not. You’re not laughing out loud, and I know it. I KNOW IT.
 
• Talking about our generation. I’m the worst, aren’t I? Everybody loves to talk about us. Countless articles have been written on the subject of 20-somethings, and we love it. We love to be talked about. We’re a generation of narcissists who rely on the approval of others to validate our sense of self worth. I can’t even enjoy a sunny day unless I tweet about it and someone retweets it. If I post a Facebook status and nobody likes it, am I still a real person? We’re a lost little generation, and we just need someone to kiss us on the foreheads and tell us we’re going to be okay. We’re going to be okay, aren’t we?
 
The truth is, I don’t hate us. I can’t hate us because I love me too much. These complaints might seem petulant, or callow or, at the very least, hypocritical, but that’s because they are. I like a lot of things about my generation. I think we’re full of love, compassion and sincerity. We’re spontaneous and passionate. Sure, we’re flawed, just like everyone else. We’re super annoying, but everyone is. We’re 20-somethings, and that’s just the way it’s going to be. It isn’t our fault. Let’s blame our parents, or the Internet, or Britney Spears or the Bush administration. We’ve got a lot going for us. I can’t wait to see what we’ll do next. I can’t wait to tweet about it.