Monday, November 19, 2012

What nice cabinets you have...

I have no fucking idea what it means to be a grown-up.

Is swearing a part of it? I’ve certainly had that covered for a while now. Then again, I can recall many a time hearing some awful little elementary school prick kid screaming obscenities at his mother in the middle of the grocery store. That being the case, my extensive sailor speak vocabulary puts me on par with that little shit. Groovy.

It seems that I have a lot more authority, or at least the autonomy to govern my own life choices, since turning 18. Certainly since graduating from college. My free time is mine to do with what I will. What little money I make I am free to spend how I see fit. I can legally enter pretty much any establishment with an age restriction. Life is looking pretty grown-up now.

Just tonight I went out with my roommate Kayleigh. She mentioned Thai food, and before I knew it she was fully dress, I had underwear on, and we were off on an adventure. Here we are, two twenty-something college graduates paying our way in New York City, and we sing silly songs on our way through the subway tunnels. Amidst our talk of OK Cupid (the new dating site we decided to join…grown-ups that we are) and the trials and tribulations associated with city men, Kayleigh caught a glimpse inside someone’s window and remarked about how “those cabinet fixtures are so nice.” During our whimsical evening Thai adventure, it became glaringly apparent to the both of us that the inevitable takeover of grown-upedness has begun. Silly songs, dancing in the street, man problems, oooo what lovely cabinets.

She sat down across from me sipping her wine, like all those fancy grown-ups do, and made more conversation while I finished off my second entrée. I can make an executive decision like that, being the grown-up that I am. The food was reasonably priced and beyond delicious, so why not have a second helping? I’m worried about money now, too. I must be a grown-up. Only grown-ups seem to worry about money.

Honestly, I haven’t a clue. I can make bigger decisions without consulting anyone, but I understand that I will be held responsible. All of my money is earned by me, but I recognize the need to spend it wisely. One minute I can have a philosophical debate over wine, and the next my friends and I will be making odd baby animal song renditions of Fiddler on the Roof in the middle of the street. Do you have any idea?

This is what’s on my mind, dear readers, as I get ready for bed. What do you think makes you a grown-up? Are you a grown-up in your own eyes? Let me know. Happy Monday Fun Day, loves.


  1. And this is why we are friends. I was having this exact thought, sans city men and replace cabinet fixtures with window trimmings yesterday. We are not grown-ups by the way, just taller and older, with more hair in more places (which I am sure will only increase) but we are still kids. I think some people always will be. I think you become an adult when you give up or resign yourself to things you feel you can't change. Everyone will be put in situations at one time or another that they don't enjoy, but the key kid-ness in it is that while its annoying, you know it isn't permanent and you realize that at any moment something amazing could happen that will improve your situation. I.E. See a fairy pop out of a bush, or realize that you've been living in a magical place all along with fairies for friends :-) Either that or your crazy. Hmmm

    Either way, autonomy does not an adult make. Some people just don't know when or maybe even how, to give up on their dreams. Those people will always have young hearts, and so you and I my dear brother, have absolutely nothing to worry about.

    Except insanity

    And maybe excessive hair.

    1. There's a reason we are siblings, dear sister. I love you forever and a day, and I am happy to say that I remain a child at heart. Always.