Before we get into all that, I am in the midst of a brain cloud funk over here. Maybe it's February, maybe it's that it's coming up on the anniversary of a friend's passing, maybe it's that I'm feeling 32 creeping up on me in an unpleasant way. When in the world did I get to be almost 32? That is how old adults are. I'm still trying to figure out what I want to do when I grow up.
This past weekend I had a brief conversation with my roommate and her friend about how whack it is that we let our high school selves decide what our adult career will be. I don't know about you, but thinking back to my late teenage years, I don't really trust that girl! She was far too concerned with pleasing other people, being thought of as cool, and generally just didn't want to do anything that required wearing a uniform. I think that last thing may have been a product of the all-Catholic-school thing. That uniform thing may have also contributed to a memorable visit my parents paid me in college where they found me wearing one of my mom's old nightgowns as a shirt. My mom is still horrified by this memory.
Back to the thought at hand, I am having a tough time getting my mind around the fact that the girl on the left in this photo:
(PS, I think we can all agree that my hair looks better NOT blonde. Also, what's up with my wonky eye in that prom photo? Weird.)
When I was a kid, I thought adults were those who:
* Could drive
* Got to make the decisions
* Decided what was for dinner
* Went to work
* Came home from work and worked more
* Had wine at night
* Paid bills
* Thought that sitting around talking with their friends was a lot of fun
* Planned trips
* Got to stay up as late as they want
According to that list, I'm doing all right. The only difference is that "stay up as late as they want" actually translates to "don't have to apologize for going to bed at 9:30." And that is pretty sweet.