What's my Age Again?

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

I never had any type of “coming of age” celebration.  I’m not Jewish, so no Bat Mitzvah. I’m not Spanish, so no Quinceañera.  I’m not rich, so no super sweet sixteen broadcasted on MTV where I bought 14 different dresses, rode in a limo, and my daddy gave me a Porsche at the end of the night with a bow on it.  I distinctly remember getting a volleyball t-shirt, Altoids and a “cell phone to share with your twin sister” on my 16th birthday, but that’s a-whole-nother story.

If I had to choose though, I’d definitely choose Spanish. Seriously. Because I can roll my R’s like a boss. Fun fact: in 8th grade, my Spanish class had a trill-off.  It involved standing in front of the class and competing, bracket-style, who could roll their r’s the longest. I got second place, thank you very much.

You see? Right when you think I’m totally unaccomplished, I go and blow your mind with a story like that.

Anyway, nope, no coming-of-age celebration for my boring self. No milestone in my life to symbolize my grand transformation from youth to womanhood.  However, if anything, I have noticed that my transition to adulthood is a gradual one. And it’s happening to me right now. Symbolized by the gradual change of the contents in my Target bags.

In college, I was notorious for going to Wal Mart (let’s be honest, central PA didn’t have a Target til like my junior year), and, literally, buying out the candy aisle.

I shopped like every day was Halloween and I was going to have hoards of trick-or-treaters stopping by my dorm room, and I’ll be damned if I ever let one costumed kid go away without at least 3 take-five candy bars and 4 bags of skittles.

Only problem being, never did have any trick-or-treaters in the Bucknell dorms. So it was pretty much just me and my roommate left to consume the candy. But mostly me. Because my roommate? Didn’t inhale Reese’s Pieces like a crack addict.

Here is some proof from February about the whole candy-problem.
Don’t believe me? Here’s one of my first tweets from my collegiate glory days, from November of my junior year of college:

..side note: do you know how long it took me to scroll down to my tweets from 09? The things I do for your people...
Anyway, I can tell that I am finally seamlessly transitioning from my college days by examining my purchases at Target. Two days ago, I went to Target and bought, as follows: paper towels, Tide, dryer sheets, healthy granola bars, and I think that was it. I don’t know if you understand the magnitude of that shopping responsibility on my part.

Then, yesterday, I finally had my entering into adulthood shining moment: I purchased a vacuum cleaner. Not just a cheap college-dorm type either. A (relatively) expensive one that you have to assemble and everything.

Buying a vacuum totally made me feel like an adult. The fact that I then had a hotdog and fruit snacks for dinner, makes me feel like I’m actually 5 years old. [Yes, it was another hotdog from Target's snack bar]

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