Riches, Rent and the Real World: Or Why Being a GrownUp Sucks

That's it. Somebody build me a flipping time machine. I'm going back to the 80's and my blessed, blessed childhood innocence. I've been nostalgic for my youth (relative youth, I'm still in my early 20's) since college graduation, but a little incident recently made me long for the old days:

I called my mom for our usual weekly chit chat session. She reminded me that she, my dad and little brother would be out of town from June 27 to July 4, and that I should call grandma in the event of an emergency. I completely blanked. "What? Where are you going?" I asked, utterly confused.

"Ari, you really should pay more attention," said Mom. "I told you about this months ago. The family is going on an Alaskan cruise." What? I hadn't even packed yet! Family vacation? Alright! But wait, I didn't request off from work...and suddenly it hit me. I was not going on this family vacation. Mom clearly said "the family." But apparently she didn't mean me this time.

"Why aren't you taking me?!?!?" I whined. I want to go on a cruise!

And my mom said (and these are her words), "Excuse me, but didn't you just come back from Greece less than a month ago? And San Diego? And L.A.? (I still assert the last two don't count, they were work-related, well sort of...) You're a rich bitch now, and I don't finance your vacations, and that is all there is to say about that."

"I hope you run into a bunch of lesbian whale-watchers. Lesbians love whale-watching!" I said spitefully to my semi-conservative mom. I was mad. I was no longer entitled to the perks of being a minor and a member of my family. No more free vacations, no more free health insurance (not to mention a personal assistant to make those doctor's appointments for me, aka MOM), no more free food, no more free shopping trips, basically no more FREE stuff. Period.

When I get sick, who will make me chicken soup and watch TV with me? Certainly not my roommate. When I can't make up my mind, who will make the decision for me? Not a boyfriend, heavens, no. When I get dumped, who will tell me it's his loss and I'm the sexiest thing to ever walk God's green earth? Luckily, my mom, dad, grandma and friends all tell me this lie on a regular basis, so I'm safe.

But despite being a bright, educated, hard-working yuppie, I miss the days when no one expected anything in particular from me. I miss describing my occupation as KID, job description: playing games, watching cartoons, discovering the world (within a two-block radius, that is), and just generally annoying the bigger people around me, but in a cute/lovable way.

Now what have I got? Bills, bills, and bosses. Somebody always wanting something, expecting something, demanding something. Ari, you have to finish this today, Ari, you have to go to [insert chic new club here] on Saturday, Ari, you have to make out with [insert hot boy here] tonight, or else! Or else what? I don't have to anything but be me and die doing it.

Ugh, I'm just so tired! Tired, tired all the time...between work, happy hours, shopping, clubbing, traveling, talking, bonding, kissing, smiling, hugging and just loving life, my calendar is full!

I should just move back in with my parents. They'd accept me, just as I am. They'd feed me, take care of me...charge me rent. Make me do some chores. Ask a lot of questions about who I'm going out with, where and when. Grill me about lifestyle choices and chide me for the bad ones...

...WHAT THE HELL AM I TALKING ABOUT? There's clearly a cocktail with my name on it and a boy waiting to be smooched and to be lured to my apartment...just forget all that other shit I just said. Ciao!