Casey Kasem has nothin' on me ...

My BFF Phoenix posted a two-part blog series about the top 10 Worst and Best aspects of being a woman. This was a brave endeavor, for no other reason than the making of a top 10 anything takes lots of brain power. Careful deliberation must paid to every single item and its placement. And what if you forget something? Do you scrap what you have and start again? Do you substitute the new item in for a less worthy one? Why was there a less worthy one in the first place? Were the right items picked in the first place? Does this make any sense?

See? That's a lot of effort for one measly little list!

But sometimes, finding 10 of anything is just ridiculously hard. I'll prove my point. I am going to make a list about the 10 Best and Worst things about being an adult. Why? Well, why not. This blog is being created for the simple, and somewhat decadent fact that I had cheesecake for breakfast. And because of that ...

10 Best Things about being an Adult:

1. Getting to eat anything you want for breakfast. Ice cream, brownies, cold pizza, left-over pasta, various forms of alcohol, and yes ... cheesecake. It's your life, don't you forget ...

2. "I get by with a little help from my friends..." I think the best thing, in *my* adult experience has been the pride and continued joy over my ability to pick awesome friends. Especially because I didn't have many friends when I was growing up ... not real friends. But now, as an adult, I have friends whom I can call at 3:00 a.m. if I need them, I have friends I can depend on, talk to, laugh and cry with ... and that's important. Particularly when you're rejected from jobs or grad school, end a relationship, lose a family member, or simply need to be reminded of your own greatness.

3. Excuses. I'm being serious. One of the best weapons in an adult's arsenal. Gone are the days when you were rudely carted here and there without so much as, "By your leave." Work, kids, no time, classes, lack of sleep, family ... now you can use one to excuse yourself from another. Don't want to go to Aunt Bessie's Tupperware party? You have work, and/or can't find a babysitter for the kids. Don't want to go to work? Your Aunt Bessie is in the hospital, of course, you're losing sleep with the worry, to the point of feeling ill yourself! As an adult, not only can you get away with it, but it works! It's like a secret code; that weird thing that your mom would do, but you could never quite catch her in a bald-faced lie. After all, you weren't the keeper of the master schedule. It may not be admirable ... but we all do it.

4. There is a certain thrill in adulthood that comes with doing mundane, and otherwise burdensome chores. Have to clean the bathroom? No problem. Laundry? Consider it done. Dishes? pwned! And WHY is this?? Because there's a magic barrier that's crossed once one finally lives on their own ... once one is the king/queen of one's own castle, chores cease being chores, and become part of a routine; sure, maybe not a *strict* routine, but routine nonetheless. When we were in the process of doing these "routines" for our parents, under the oppression of childhood labor, we called them chores. But now, the sense of productivity and accomplishment is astounding. You could sit around and do nothing but laundry all day, and still feel accomplished! This is what I call progress.

5. The end of censorship! At least on an individual level; I'm not currently able to take on the MPAA/media machines all on my own, at this time. I do assure you, I'm working on it. BUT! Now, I can go out and re-purchase that Dr. Dre album I bought when I was 11, that my dad made me bicycle back to The Wherehouse and exchange, largely because of the parental advisory label on the front. Okay, no, he didn't "make me" ... but he "strongly advised it." So of course, that's what I did. The irony is that I *wouldn't* buy a Dr. Dre album today. No offense to Mr. Dr. Dre, it's just not my thing.

6. Say it with me: NO. MORE. PERMISSION. SLIPS. EVER! I'm sorry, but even as a child, I had a huge problem with needing my parents' permission for things like museum trips or historical societies. I'm the one going, I should have my own say! Who cares if I couldn't drive or get myself to the hospital if hurt. Now? I come, I go, I visit, I pay admittance ... I drive, I pay for gas, and lunch. Please bear in mind that I was a silently independent child ... I did what I was told, but secretly hated it. I am an Aries, after all.

7. The mighty power of Ownership. There's nothing like the feeling when you make your first LARGE purchase ... we have small tastes of this in high school or college, when you save a few hundred dollars to buy that one thing, or maybe you were a highly advanced teenager, and purchased your first (used) car on your own. But I mean LARGE purchases ... purchases over the tune of $5,000 ... I'm talking your first new car, your first house/condo, your first state-of-the-art computer ... Ahhhhh ... the power of financing, the pride, the validation! Who cares that our economy is in the toilet ... buy, buy, buy! Why? Because you can; you have credit!

8. Independent money source/storage. Sure, you may not have a lot of it, but it's still yours; no more asking mom or dad to withdraw money for you, or telling you what to do with it. (This item does typically hinge on the small detail of being gainfully employed, but like I said, small detail.)

9. The continuing growth and refinement of our taste buds. You think I kid? I do not! When I turned 20, I had a sudden craving for coffee, and voila! I loved coffee! Two months after my 21st birthday, insta-need for beer. Shazam! I heart beer! If I didn't have the massive affinity for coffee and beer that I currently have, who KNOWS what I would use to fill the void; cigarettes, mallow bars, everclear ... cocaine? Who knows. And then there's the gourmet foods - avocado, spinach, quiches, prosciutto, lox, brie? What would the world be without good food?? Kraft can only get you so far in life! Yeah, I'm looking at you, Clifton ....

10. Free use of the stove top. Do you remember back to when you couldn't operate the stove, via the means of parental decree? And I could cook (rudimentary) by the time I was 9. Now, lemon chicken, pan-seared steak, mashed potatoes, steamed vegetables. Don't like Aunt Rose's meat aspic? Make something yourself, and tell her you're allergic to gelatin. The stove is my minion! You know, unless I'm eating the cheesecake that my sister made ... for breakfast...

-------------------
This blog is brought to you by:

Tully's coffee
Zlacket's Deli and Market
My sister's cheesecake
Res ipsa loquitur
Casey Kasem