My Adult Life

This past weekend, I had the pleasure of visiting the Dirty Water city of Boston. I've always loved Boston. As a girl from Small Town New England, how could I not? It is the city to which all other cities are compared. When I was in high school, everyone I knew dreamt of Boston and it's academia. There are so many institutes of higher education in Boston and the greater Boston area, it seemed impossible that there was not a school to meet your post-graduation plans. Not to mention that we road tripped there once, sometimes twice a month to see all our favorite bands. Home of the Red Sox. The Boston Marathon. Plus there's that whole Boston Tea Party/Paul Revere/first city of our nation thing.

I was there for a few reasons. To see the new Harry Potter movie, to see Andrea and her new yellow house, and H&M. There was a barbecue the night I arrived, and a few of our friends from Burlington, where Andrea and I met and had one magical joyous summer together, also came down from their New England corner to hang out. We had a really nice time, there were hamburgers, PBR, badmitten, a gold motorcycle...

But I feel compelled to go back to a conversation that I had with this drummer guy who I had to introduce myself as the one from the Pretty and Nice cd (see below).

Let me first explain that while I was living in Burlington, my real life was on hold. I dropped out of school. I stayed out at the bar until 2am, slept until noon, worked a retail job and shirked my financial responsibilities. So, in Boston, reunited with my Burlington friends, I said that I felt like I was taking a break from my adult life. Drummer guy, who is three years my senior, challenged me. What makes me more adult than him? Does that make me think I'm better than everyone else here? These questions weren't said out loud, but clearly thought. I have a job with a dress code, office hours, a salary and benefits. I live with my boyfriend in the nicest apartment I've ever lived in. We cook dinner at the same time every day. My bedtimes and wake-up times are strictly enforced by my biological clock- not after midnight or after nine. These things, in totality, project the image of adulthood. But it doesn't mean that I feel like I'm grown up, ready to live the rest of my life here, like this- or that I think everyone who isn't on the fast track to marriage, babies and a promotion is juvenile- it just means that I don't stay out late. His life consists of making money at a job he doesn't care about to pay the bills, then taking all of the rest buy booze, gear and tattoos and one big drunken party. He thought I was "the man."

I am so not "the man!"

In an unrelated note: Rilo Kiley has a new video. Since I'm not as "hip" or "indie" as I used to be, I flipping love it. It's so hot. But I'm supposed to say that it's a corporate sell out and they'll never be the same since they signed to Warner. Or something.