Ouch. Ouch ouch ouch. Dinner turned out amazingly but only after I burnt two of my fingers trying to take a lid out of what I thought was storage. It turns out that in gas ovens, the bottom section where most people keep all their pot lids is actually a broiler!!! Why did no one tell me this? Am I supposed to just magically know how to be an adult once I reach a certain age? I need a manual.
The BF and I were eating this wonderful roast with mashed potatoes and corn when I looked at him and said, “wow, I can’t believe I made a roast. I feel like a real adult.” He looked at me quizzically and said, “E, you’ve been a real adult since you were 18.” In which we quickly started quarrelling (yes, I used a thesaurus for that word) about when you officially become a real adult. I argued that it couldn’t possibly be until you were at least 25 since that’s when you can officially rent a car without paying all those extra fees. He maintained that 18, the year you can vote was when you enter adulthood.
The truth is, I still don’t feel like an adult. And I’m not going to lie- the roast was already pre-marinated. All I did was stick it in the oven and I still managed to almost kill myself. Many of my friends from childhood are now all grown up, married with children and real jobs, and I feel like I live in a different world. A world full of confused, struggling artists who refuse to conform.
This is where I have to give a shout out to my good friend, NG. NG is a writer in Baltimore who decided to quit her corporate job a year ago to pursue her dream of writing. Her whole life quickly became an ocean of lava that was hard to navigate. But did she scald herself on this lava? No, of course not. NG navigated herself through the choppy waters and is now the happiest and most successful I’ve ever seen her. She is my artistic partner. A kindred soul who refuses to be stifled. I heart her. Check out her blog: http://thenewglitterati.blogspot.com/
NG reminds me that it’s ok to be who I am. In fact it’s actually a good thing. It’s ok to be an emotional, artistic, confused 20 something who has no idea where tomorrow will lead her, let alone a year from now. Or 5 years from now. It’s comforting to know that NG is making it happen no matter how many other ships are sinking in the lava around her.
I may be able to cook a roast, rent a car, and drink my friends under the table, but I’m still a kid at heart. I’m not ready for the house, the yard filled with little curly blonde children, and the carpooling. Maybe one day I will be, but for now my child is my art. And you never abandon your child.
Now I need to go put some more aloe on my finger.
Adult is such a relative term. I never feel like an adult and I've been married for 5 years and owned my own home for 4. I think you came to a great realization that it's fine to be who you are and where you are in life. It's true that the grass is greener (sometimes). Although I love me life with my husband, I often feel that I missed out on some things by getting married so young. Then all I need is one of my single friends to complain to give me a little perspective.
ReplyDeleteI guess most of us never really feel like adults. I've been with my boyfriend for almost five years and have always balked at the idea of getting married because I just don't feel old enough yet. Growing up is a strange thing. You're right- the grass always does seem greener.
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