I'm an Adult!

I don't think it's really hit me yet that I'm an adult. I mean, when I turned 18 I was well aware that I could now vote, by alcohol, and go to bars. But now, a year and a half later, it's starting to dawn on me. Being an adult means a lot more than just buying booze and partying. In less than a month I'm moving out of my quiet, population 100, theatre town and moving to a city to attend college. A real college with real people and real diplomas. Inside a real city with real cars and real dangers. I would be lying if I said I wasn't terrified. Because I am. Out of my mind. But I'm also incredibly excited. I'm moving into a duplex with two other people, one of which is the son of the landlady. Who, by the way, is amazing. She just bought the duplex, so I'm moving into a new home, and she's still trying to fill it with the regular accommodations. Coffee machine, baking supplies, freezers, and the likes. We have this thing where as soon as I think of something that should be in the house, I text her. Either she'll buy it or she'll let me know that she doesn't have it so I can pick it up. She even told me once that if I found myself stuck or lost or unable to get home at any point during the day or night (probably not every day though), I should just call her up and she'll come and get me. Because she's not only someone who loves and appreciates young adults, but she also remembers what it was like to be one. Her son that I'm moving in with is about 25, which I'm excited about because the other lady who I'll be living with is also around that age. So my two roommates will be mature adults who probably already have a lot of their shit figured out, and I don't need to tell them to do things like do their dishes, clean the bathroom, pick up after themselves. Which will be nice. But back to Pamela, my landlady, her son is roughly 25, which is weird cuz she looks about 30. I'm guessing she must be at least 45, but my goodness does she look good for her age. And she's not snobby, either. She didn't really take to my family's humour, but after I explained to her that we are all very sarcastic, and dry humour is our thing, she seemed to lighten up. I feel like I'll just have to be gentle with her for a while. But that's okay, because she's wonderful! Christian, and just so open to talking about things and communicating. I'm getting a pretty nifty room, but with a super small closet so we probably have to find some furniture before I move in.

Which, at the rate the days are going, is about three weeks! Oh my lanta. I can't handle it. The second I realized that it was August first (five days ago) I literally freaked out, because it meant I'd be leaving Rosebud in less than a month. It's always been, like, one year, then six months, then four months. And now it's one. Now the moment that I have been dreading is upon me. But it also means that art school is starting. That I'll be able to be in a new city and reinvent myself. Honestly, the only thing that's really terrifying me is the distance between my house and the college. Right now when it's not wintry outside it's no problem, but when the snow starts to fall and it becomes -30 degree weather, I'm probably gonna have to get a routine with the city bus. Hopefully it's not hard to understand. And I'll be able to find a bus pass, and all those other things that I have to think about, now that I'm a self-sufficient adult.

Although writing this after I just spent five hours in a yurt playing the RPG game Dark Heresy with four other boys, it now being 2:30, probably doesn't say much about me being an adult. Coupled that with the fact that my dishes need to be done, my bed needs to be made, and I have to get up in 7.5 hours to go to the city with my friend and spend money I don't possess, leaves a lot to be desired in adulthood.

But maybe that's good. Maybe 19 is still too young to be forced to grow up. Even though I am paying rent and bills and working non-stop and dealing with the stresses of work and family and relationships and money and time, I think I should still be able to chillax with my friends and act like idiots as often as we can. Because really- growing old is no choice. Growing up is an option.

Until nextime!

P.S. I've decided to try to become a regular blogger again. At least once a week. Simply because that with me actually leaving now, there might be some people from my hometown that will want to know what's up with me, now that I'm away and they never see me. So maybe this will become my weekly newsletter. I would like that. So encouraging comments would be appreciated :)