My life one day at a time.

It is currently 6 am. For those of you who have had the pleasure of knowing me for an extended period of time you may be thinking I perhaps drank a few too many and am now incapable of sleep. If this was 6 months ago you would probably be right. However if this is your thought process, I am happy to report, you are incorrect. 

I have been up for over an hour already today. And I have already accomplished a trip to the airport. On this early morning trip to and from the airport a few things have become immensely clear. I thought I would share.

So, as I begin bringing my in-laws (and I’ll call them my in-laws for the sake of simplicity and in no way because I secretly hope, deep down, that one day this will in fact be the true nature of our relationship..) to the airport I was blissfully unaware of some major generational inconsistencies that have begun to occur in my life as I begin back down the gentle hill that is my 20s. (No one, and by no one I mean my loving boyfriend, need point out that the backside of the 20 hill seems much steeper and faster than the gentle slope upwards toward the middle.)

Now currently I am back home, sitting on my couch (aka my “in-laws” couch) watching my favorite previously recorded cooking competition shows. As I am doing so I am eating blood-orange sorbet.

The way I rationalize this behavior is as follows;

a. it is NOT ice cream.

b. it contains oranges, blood oranges to be exact, so it’s basically like I’m eating fruit.

c. sorbet is fancy-shmancy (technical term) so it is clearly deserving of the title of breakfast indulgence.

d. it is NOT ICE CREAM

And e. even if it is ice cream, I’m an adult and can eat whatever I damn well please for breakfast.

f. shut up it’s not even ice cream.

While sitting here eating my breakfast indulgence I am recapping the drive both to and from the airport. I of course am no longer blissfully unaware of these inconsistencies I previously mentioned. One of them is the internal struggle that I made external above. The struggle between child and adult. Behave as a child (ice cream for breakfast.) Rationalize as an adult (“it’s fruit, it’s basically fruit, SHUT UP I’M A GROWN UP AND EAT WHAT I WANT.” The child wins.)

On the drive out, I took my rightful place in the backseat because I of course would not be driving TO the airport, I’m just a kid. Nathans father, an adult would be driving to the airport. So in my alloted spot in the back, I pull up my socked feet, sit criss-cross applesauce, take out my portable electronic device and begin perusing tumblr. If this doesn’t scream adolescent, then by george I don’t know what does. On the flip side, if saying by george doesn’t scream 97 year old woman, then by george I don’t know what does. 

Now we arrive at the airport, the bags are removed from the car, the travelers emerge, as do I, and roles are reversed. I find myself giving hugs, spouting out have a good trip, have fun, and then, “don’t forget to call or text when you land so I don’t get too worried!” Ummm oh I’m sorry I wasn’t aware that moving from backseat passenger to front seat driver also turned you into a parent. I say my final goodbyes and drive off. 

As I begin the half-hour journey home I turn on the radio. Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers starts playing, naturally I turn the music up and start belting out mary janes last dance. To me, this suddenly seemed a slight inconsistency. I’m fairly certain it is due to my parents, but I have met many people just 2-5 years younger than me who haven’t the slightest idea who Tom Petty is. I of course consider this blasphemy and shun them for a span of 24 hours to make them aware of their crime. It seems utterly insane to me that there is anyone in the world who doesn’t know who Tom Petty is. However what seems crazy to me is the norm for many people very close to my age… Anyways I think I may be venturing off into another rant all together. 

At this point in the trip I became distracted… There was a truck in front of me on the freeway. This truck was going substantially slower than the rest of the cars. In such a situation you usually have a split second to decide to change lanes and pass this truck. I hesitated. I did so because I started to consider how the truck driver would feel being passed by all the other cars. I had empathy for this driver. And due to my hesitation I got stuck behind him as the long line of cars to the rear began to pass. I don’t think this is necessarily a generational inconsistency as much as it is I’m just kind of crazy. But at least the truck driver wasn’t being continuously passed alone…

I swear at the beginning of this I had a point… AH yes! So I’m at the end of this little adventure and who comes on the radio… NELLY. This brings us to yet another facet of my personality where I begin my daily fantasy of having an intimate relationship with the rapper of my youth. I can be that girl Nelly! I can change the band-aid under your eye every morning! I CAN BE YOUR SHORTY, I CAN BE YOUR WIFE!

…Well I don’t believe I have made the point I set out to make.

I don’t think I made a point at all.

All I can be sure of is that 26 is a confusing time.

And if you put blood-orange sorbet in a martini glass, it makes the nutritional value much more apparent at 6 am.

Cheers.