Am I an Adult?

Like I said in yesterday’s post, I turned 25 this month, and it’s strange because I still feel like I’m in high school. It’s not like I’m clinging to youth or anything, in fact, I’m excited to turn 30 in the near future. I’ve found that every six months or so I become a little less of an asshole, so I’m hoping by 30 I’ll be a real hip woman in charge of her own destiny, getting her clothes tailored, not eating as much processed foods, the whole thing.

young-adult-poster

But for now, I can’t tell- am I an adult? Let’s look at the evidence:

ADULT: I have aged out of eligibility to be on The Real World because apparently 25 is too old to catch syphilis in a hot tub while you experiment with your sexuality. What if I’m a late bloomer, huh, MTV?

NON-ADULT: Still too young to be a Real Housewife. Not a girl, not yet a woman.

ADULT: I pay rent with my own money for a townhouse with a garbage disposal, yes, garbage disposal. 

NON-ADULT: I recently cashed in an animal crackers jug full of change at a Coin Star so I would have drinking money.

ADULT: I told a co-worker how old I turned on my birthday and he said, “25! You can get married now!” Isn’t that wild? I mean, at this point, if I had a kid in a high school bathroom stall no one would give me a reality show. They might call DCF because what am I doing having a baby in a high school bathroom stall? but 25 is a completely appropriate age to get married and have a child. In the Mid-West.

NON-ADULT: No matter how old I am when I have kids, always exclaiming “this is children raising children!” is a very charming thing I plan to do.

ADULT: Another thing about kids- I’m at least mature enough to know at what time a toddler should be in bed and not at the West Hollywood Halloween Carnival among half a million people. That would be all of the times. When I went this year it was after 11pm and I was very surprised at the toddler to screaming drunk people ratio.

NON-ADULT: At 8pm on a Sunday I locked my keys in my car and waited until 1am to ask AAA to get them because I was late for karaoke. Somebody, quick! Give me a baby to raise! I might accidentally lock them in the back seat, but I promise I’ll fish them out after last call!

ADULT: I got my oil changed all by myself this week!

NON-ADULT: I didn’t get my oil changed all by myself until I was 25 year old.

Welp, I am no closer to an answer, but at least I have enough self awareness to limit the amount of times I say the phrase “quarter-life crisis.” That counts for something, right?

What I’ve Been Doing for Two Months

*tap tap*

Helllloooo?

Is there anybody in there?

Just nod if you can hear me.

If you have a middle aged dad who owns a car with a functioning radio, you probably know I’m quoting a Pink Floyd song. If not, I’m sorry, you probably had a difficult childhood and/or very quiet road trips.

Anyway, I’m baaaack.

I know I said I was just going out for cigarettes and I’d be home in time for dinner, but now here we are two months later and I’m just trying to walk back into your life like nothing happened. (At least I’m home in time for A dinner)?

I’ll be honest with you. I thought about leaving this blog in my dust and taking up with a podcast, but as my father always told me and his father told him, “you make your bed, you sleep in it.” And hey, maybe I can make this an open relationship and do both? This is 2013, after all.

I was debating whether or not to start back up with the blog when a reader (not my mother. Trust me, she has a direct line to nag me about posting new stuff) sent me an e-mail saying he and his friend missed my blog. Listen, I’m not going to copy and paste his email because that’s no better than when people retweet compliments, but I will say he was throwing around words like “insightful” and “hilarious” (full disclosure, he actually said “humorous” but as a comedy writer, I had to “punch it up” for him as we say in the industry).

I just took a break from blogging because I didn’t feel like I had anything to say, so I went out there and LIVED so I would have something to write about. (Oh, reminds me, do any aspiring Youtube stars want to take this idea: a Bonnie Raitt parody song called “Let’s Give ‘Em Something to Blog About”? Please. Run with it).

So, here’s what’s been happening with me since we last spoke two months ago:

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  • I’ve started using words like “the industry” and “the biz”. I also have “projects in the pipeline” and I’m punching it up and also loglines and back end residuals and I’m just like, selling it in the room, ya know? I also work at the front desk of a life insurance firm in Beverly Hills and I’m happy to pay $2 for a thimble of wheat grass juice… So I guess I’ve just been busy making Los Angeleez my home.
  • I started doing Crossfit.
  • I quit Crossfit
  • I gained 5 pounds
  • I’m back at Crossfit!
  • Breaking Bad finale
  • Coven premiere
  • I’m in the throes of a very serious Stevie Nicks phase (see above).
  • + Turned 25
  • – Began my 25th year by losing a booty shaking contest to a 17 year-old whilst in the presence of drag queens.

There it is! 2 months chock-full of life experience and writing material. I’m ready to get back to blogging regularly! (Until I get bored again or don’t become internet famous, which ever affects me more first).

Happy Friday, Gwyneth Paltrow!

That goop article you’ve been slaving over can wait until Monday, so put down your hemp seed detox smoothie and pick up a cold glass of Sauv Blah because it’s the weekend, Gwyneth!
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I’m excited, too!

BTW Gwyney, you fill out a snake skin bikini like a dream.

I’m working today, but I started my weekend festivities yesterday at a party celebrating the opening of a Warby Parker store in The Standard Hotel in West Hollywood. Was it worth staying out so late when I had to wake up so early for work the next day? Well, I got a free canvas tote bag containing a one-size-fits-not-me pair of slippers, so you be the judge (and duh. Of course it was worth it because all women inexplicably love free tote bags that we pack our lunch in once and then never use again).

Plus Mischa Barton was there. It was coolish to have Mischa Barton at that party, but maybe not cool to be Mischa Barton at that party. Like I said, free tote bag, but basically the event was just a bunch of hipsters in affordable glasses and skinny ties standing next to a pool. And wasn’t it just The OC’s 10 year anniversary? Surely there’s some Buzzfeed article about it floating around that might give her popularity a little resurgance granting her access to cooler parties. Or maybe she could just stay home. I’m not a fan of hers or anything so I don’t know her substance abuse history like I do Lindsay Lohan’s or Laurie Forman’s from That 70’s Show (RIP), but she definitely feels like someone who shouldn’t be drinking. Regardless, being in her presence is just cool enough to my hipper East Coast relatives that when they point out that I could be a secretary in New Hampshire too, I can counter with the lie that I live a fabulous LA lifestyle.

Plus, I can’t be a secretary in glamourous Beverly Hills in New Hampshire, can I? Uh-no.

Teen Mom

This past holiday weekend, my roommate and I were entrusted with keeping alive something far more precious than a human baby– a wittle dogggyyyyy, awww!!!

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Teen Mom

In exchange for wine, good karma, and instagrams of me wearing a doggy baby bjorn, we agreed to walk and feed this precious creature of God, Rufio.

I was really excited to do it because since moving to California from New Hampshire, I’ve been missing my Chiweenies (chihuahua/dachshund), Henry and Wilbur:

Bone Thugs

Bone Thugs

I was getting the itch to have something around the house that’s more pathetic and adorable than me, and I had begun thinking about how fun it would be to have my own dog. Though I can barely afford food for myself, and I’m not even allowed to have dogs in my apartment, once I get an idea in my head, I can’t get it out (unless there’s a Law and Order: SVU marathon on).

So playing puppy parents to Rufio came at the perfect time.425028_10152827182745144_417404990_nDo you remember how on every 90’s kid’s show, there was an episode where for a class  the cast had to pair up and “raise” an egg or baby doll for a week, as I guess, some form of birth control instead of just passing out free condoms and saving everyone the trouble? Well, I always thought that looked so fun, and through taking care of Rufio for the weekend, I finally got to live out my Saved By The Bell dreams.

At first, it was great that Jillian and I finally had a reason to get out of bed in the morning, and Rufio is the most well behaved, loving pup-pup two lesbian adoptive parents could ask for. Seriously, what’s the point of a farmers market if you don’t have a dog or baby strapped to your chest to stroll around with?

But, I think 3 days of parenting was long enough. I remembered how hard it is to care for a living thing if your parents aren’t there doing 90% of the work. Though we suddenly had a reason to get out of bed in the morning, we had to get out of it sooooo earllllllyyy!

However, to our credit, I think Jill and I would make great parents. I think if we’re still single at 45 we should adopt a Somalian orphan together. Preferably, a 14 year-old who can pretty much take care of herself.

Boston Bucket List: Wine Riot

Wine Riot Photo Booth

A couple weekends ago I knocked another item off my Boston Bucket List: to go to the Second Glass Wine Riot. I’ve been wanting to go to a Wine Riot for a while, and it ended up being a lot of fun.

So, Wine Riot is a wine tasting festival, but it’s edgy and cool and better than other wine tasting festivals because they have a temporary tattoo station and a photo booth.

Gaga Wine Booth*

I highly recommend going to a Wine Riot (they now have them in LA, DC, NY, and Chicago) if you are someone who legitimately appreciates drinking wine, a 20 or 30 something who appreciates getting wine drunk, or a single man (I fall somewhere in between categories 1 and 2).

Seriously, single guys, this is a great place to find dates. The majority of people who go to this are couples and packs of single girls who figure that any single man she meets there must be really mature and cultured. Just wear khakis and a blazer and you’re in like Flynn. Maybe memorize some NY Times best seller titles that you can pretend you’ve read recently. Your prep work really depends on how desperate and lonely you are. Good luck!

*Side note: I just want to put on record that I’m not some Lady Gaga obsessed fan. I just found an over-sized pink wine bottle and saw a photo op. I like Lady Gaga in the sane, normal person amount.
Also: Gaga Wine is the worst. Really terrible. I will say, however, that their marketing ploys appears to be successful.