Adult Life

I got my first taste of ‘adult life’ when I was a teenager working on Capital Hill for parts of the summer. I would catch the metro into town, read on my commute (or more often just people watch with my sunglasses on, a not-so-sneaky trick I leaved from my mom), work at my tasks all day long, maybe have a lunch appointment etc. I pretty much thought I was the coolest thing around. I fantasized that one day, my life would be like this all the time. Only, I’d spend my weekends doing grown up things. Seeing plays and going to museums. Enjoying nice weather in public parks, perhaps playing Frisbee or catch with some happy hour friends, while we ate out of our picnic basket. Having those same friends over to my super cool downtown loft for dinner parties. You know. Adult things. I couldn’t wait to be done with boring old school, so that I could dole out my time as I saw fit, as opposed to how it was dictated to me by an ever evolving cast of characters: parents, teachers, professors. Oh, the naiveté of youth.

Turns out, “adult things” aren’t quite as fun as I thought they would be. Total adult let down number 1: I don’t work downtown There is something about belonging amongst those big buildings, walking with a purpose headed off to an important meeting, lunch, the bathroom, whatever. It makes you feel like a real grown up. Only I don’t get to do that. Instead I get to head off to a nondescript building in the ‘border burbs’ (not in the city, but not even in the real suburbs yet) that is flanked on one side by a Wal-Mart, and the other by a Babies r’ Us. Oh and those ‘tasks’ I once romanticized? Not as much fun when it’s a day-in, day-out reality as opposed to a 2 month hiatus from school.

It’s true my weekends are more fun now than they used to be. Of course, you don’t exactly get 100% of your time to yourself, now do you? No mom to do the laundry, replace your empty shampoo bottles, figure out what's for dinner. You know. Adult things. Turns out these things go hand in hand with those great picnic dinners in the park. At least I manage to fit in more than my fair share of happy hours, even if they are at bars as opposed to parks (turns out summer is too damn hot to do stupid things like stand in the sun and play an impromptu game of catch). This past weekend though I did do something that felt uniquely adult, or would have seemed so to my 15 year old self. On Saturday, Rice 2029 and I headed up to Porter Texas to go blueberry picking, pretty much on a whim. (Kid Me used to think the coolest part about being an adult would be making random plans and not having to get them ok’d by someone else.) We dressed smartly, researched what was in store for us, heck, we even had a wagon! I felt very adult as I asked the man in charge for pointers, and headed out into the blueberry orchard for our own little piece of blue gold. It was much harder work than I anticipated (me underestimate? Shocker.) but a good time was still had by all. I felt super duper adult when asked what I did this weekend, and replied nonchalantly ‘oh, went blueberry picking’ as if I always spend my time doing such industrious things. Some things never change though. When we got home, I took a nap.

Me with our bounty

Our official taste tester

Mamma Vaughan getting after those hard to reach ones.