"Who run the world? Girls"

I have known my best friend a very long time. We've been best mates for over a decade and I couldn't imagine life without her. We've been through everything together, from death and break-ups to overseas holidays and drunken birthday parties to falling out with dozens of our other friends. The Best Friend knows basically everything about me and vice versa because we have been there through every hilarious or dramatic moment in each others lives and we can have entire conversations with just looks.

In year seven she made me walk up this huge hill every day after school so we could stalk the guy she liked. In year eight we sent each other emails every single day when I lived in the United States and she was home in Australia. In year nine I tried to convince her not to ask this guy out because he was a douche but she did anyway and he rejected her horrible and I baked her terrible cupcakes and we watched stupid movies and I never once said 'I told you so'. In year ten she lied to our English teacher for me constantly because I was always skipping class and once threw another friend's pencil case out the window. In year 11 we both took year 12 psychology and competed to get the top mark. In year 12 she told me a guy friend of mine was in love with me but I didn't believe her and attempted to turn him into my study buddy but we never actually got any study done.

I think it's really important to have people in your life that you've known a long time and who just get to and you don't have to explain everything to you because they know what has happened in your life. It takes a long time for someone to become an 'old' friend so you really have to work on it. I don't have many other friends from high school. I had a really close knit group but we all fell out a few years ago. A couple of girls got their first boyfriends and just completely disappeared (I hate it when girls do that more than anything). One of those girls is still with her boyfriend. Another broke up, but I couldn't bring myself to truly forgive her. I still see her sometimes but we aren't very close. Another girl turned out to be a bit pf a psycho who made bizarre threats and lied about things to turn people against each other and I eventually became sick of her childish behaviour.

Anyway, I think we and my best friend have the perfect friendship because we trust and love each other unconditionally and also because we are the perfect mixture of similarities and differences. We both like a drink, listen to the same music, wear a lot of black, are cynical and jaded about certain things, dislike self-involved couples and have the same sense of humour. On the other hand I read a lot and follow sport, she spend most of her time discovering new bands and getting tattoos. She is more judgmental than I am and I am more outgoing than she is. Overall we are a good match. We got lucky in finding each other. A best friend is like a leather jacket: it always fits perfectly, goes with everything and gets better with age.

"My only interests are drinking wine and judging people"

The last two weekends I've had to take myself home early from a party because I got too drunk. Oops.

If I'm honest (and nothing allows for honesty more than anonymous Internet blogging) I would probably say I have an alcohol problem. Not a dependance, that sounds far too serious, but a problem. It's a bit: I'm not an alcoholic I don't go to meetings; I'm a drunk I go to parties. I don't think I abuse alcohol more than any other Australian my age, but then I have noticed I'm always the first to head to the bar in social situations. It's just that I like a drink.

Yes, I use alcohol to deal with my problems. When I was rejected from a job I really wanted (before my career apathy set in obviously) I went out and drank until I was blind and spent the next day in bed sick. When I found out the guy I really liked had started going out with another girl I went and bought a bottle of strawberry daiquiri cocktail, drank the whole thing and danced around my room to the Arctic Monkeys. Healthy? Physically probably not, but mentally it made me feel a hell of a lot better.

I drink when I'm sad, I drink when I'm happy. I drink to celebrate, I drink to commiserate. I drink when I'm angry, I drink when I'm calm. I drink when I'm on holiday, I drink when I have work early the next morning. I drink on my birthday, on Christmas, on Halloween, on Saturday. I drink at dinner, I drink in pubs, I drink at clubs. Most of my social life revolves around drinking in some respect.

Drinking makes me happy. I'm a cheerful drunk. You won't find me sitting in the corner crying or whining about life (except one time when I found out a friend had been lying to me about hooking up with another friend and I became irrationally upset and was crying, yelling and trying to knock a tree down). I'm dancing, or laughing, or photo bombing someone else's photos, or making new friends. I like to drink because it's fun. When I'm happy it's a way to enjoy myself and my good mood. When I'm unhappy it always cheers me up. Vodka and wine never ever let me down.

You know what? I change my mind. I don't have a problem. I have a solution.

"It makes me wonder why I'm still here"

While I write this I am lying in bed with my laptop, which needs to be constantly plugged in because it's a piece of shit, my mother is sitting in another room of the house watching the news on TV. She thinks I'm studying. I didn't correct her because it would only upset her, and god knows I do that enough anyway just by being me.

Probably I should move out of home. My parents have put up with me for long enough and I really should let them enjoy their imminent retirement without my bothersome presence. But I actually like living at home. Or maybe it's more than I'm too lazy to move out. Maybe I'm just not responsible or mature enough to move out of home. Which is a ridiculous assertion, because people who live in share houses are amongst the most irresponsible and out of control people I know.

The truth is, my life is easier because I live at home. I get along surprisingly well with both my parents. Sometimes I feel like they don't understand me at all but I'm sure that's something most children think about their parents. I'm actually very lucky. My mother is kindhearted and will always take care of me, and my father is intelligent and always makes me laugh. My younger brother and I are also very close. It helps, of course, that my family lives close to the CBD and I rarely have to pay more than $20 for a taxi fare. It also might be because I'm planning on taking a gap year next year to Europe and it is hard to save money when you're studying and renting.

Yes, gap years are traditionally taken before university and not after but this is a new generation; the generation that suffers through years of higher education. Because of that we are settling down later than even the generation before us and since I doubt my ability to settle down at all, a gap year it is. Hell, my gap year may turn into a gap life but that is yet to be decided. And so I remain in the family home. It works out pretty well since my family is rarely home together. In fact, we average dinner all four of us one night a week. My parents both work full time, have active social lives and take holidays together. My brother and I both study full time and work part time. My brother plays basketball, I get exceptionally drunk twice a week.

It's not perfect. I'd never bring a guy home for sex because although my parents probably wouldn't mind (and didn't mind during my brother's short lived relationship with his annoying ex) it's well...icky. I can't invite my friends over for afternoon BBQs because my brother has used up all the gas. Well, that and my dad is usually wearing one of his tacky Asian beer t-shirts. Overall though, it's a pretty good deal. The friends I have who rent have so much less money to spend on beer.

And now, because I have gone off on this tangent, I have forgotten entirely what I was planning to write about.

"We're happy free confused and lonely in the best way"

I'm 22. I'm female. I live in Melbourne, Australia.

I'm about to graduate from university with a law degree. This apparently means I should, at least sort of, have my shit together. Guess what? My shit; it isn't together. It isn't even sort of together. To be honest, I don't even know what my shit is.

Over the past year I've realised I don't want the things I always thought I wanted and I'm not going to be the sort of person I always thought I would be. Of course the obvious follow up question to that is: well the who the hell am I going to be? And that is something I have no idea how to answer. And you know what else? I kinda don't care. My defining characteristics seem to be the fact that I am eternally single and the fact that I lack the ability to give a shit about anything.

I'm currently supposed to be studying for exams. Obviously I'm not. But what's more to the point is that I'm not even really bothered. It would have bothered me, once. Even a year ago I used to be the typical university student stresshead, drinking too much coffee and eating too many dark chocolate Timtams but right now I can't even be bothered opening the textbook I spent over a hundred bucks on. And it doesn't really bother me.

I don't have a job lined up for next year. Not only that, but I didn't even bother applying for anything. Around me all my friends have been dressing up and going to interviews and freaking out about they will- or won't- be doing. It was just all too hard for me. Even the thought of ordering an official academic transcript seemed too hard, so I just didn't bother. And it didn't even worry me.

You know what I stress about? The fact that maybe I ordered too many waffles for afternoon tea. The fact that I only have half a bottle of red wine left sitting on my bedside table, and I'll probably need more soon. The fact that over the weekend I ripped a hole in my favourite black lace dress. The fact that one of my closest friends still confuses his 'yours' and 'you'res' on facebook. Those are my genuine concerns and anxieties in life at the moment. I know that is pathetic and stupid and maybe even petty but I. Do. Not. Care. Anything real just seems too difficult.

I'm not getting any younger. But I don't want to get any older.

This is the story of someone who doesn't know what the fuck they're doing. And who isn't ashamed of that, even if they aren't exactly proud either.