Adulthood looming large for this 20-something
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On a recent afternoon I could be found enjoying a more adult outing than is usual for a 23-, almost 24-, year-old.
I met a friend for coffee. Then we moved on to the more active portion of our social time and ended things with a late lunch. All-in-all, the kind of afternoon I have rarely had and enjoyed so thoroughly.
Admittedly, I am not exactly a social butterfly, nor could I be labeled fully adult, but I am reaching that portion of social growth when coffees and browsing and late lunches are becoming infinitely more appealing than they once were.
In the not so distant past I would have traded the coffee for a beer and a late lunch for pizza on the couch.
I have spent many a Saturday morning in my pajamas eating cereal out of a sauce pan, because it was the only clean bowl-like piece of kitchenware available, watching cartoons and loving every minute of it.
As I have gotten a bit older there have been more and more true bowls, regular milk has been traded out for soy milk and my Cocoa Puffs have been swapped out for granola or Cheerios (not all the time, but in the vast majority of cases). These small changes have added up to the larger whole of my own movement toward eating breakfast at a dinning room table with real clothes on.
There have been other changes too. My tastes in film, food, clothing, reading and music, among other things, have changed. I still hold my punk rock music close, but also enjoy an opera now and then. I still adore ooey, gooey, cheesy pizza but have discovered an undying devotion to Indian curry.
Growth has not been without its benefits. I feel as though I can legitimately sit at the adults' table during family meals and discuss the ins and outs of work, relationships and so on with more ease and maturity.
Despite all that growing, I still spend a good deal of time doing less mature activities. I am loath to give up my cartoons and cereal. I still find endless pleasure in sitting around with friends railing about why life is unfair while holding my belly after hours of side-splitting, asthma-inducing laughter.
So, maybe I'm not as grown up as I first thought. But I think I am on the track to becoming a full-fledged adult eventually. The present mixture of inner pink-haired punk rocker and outer bespectacled reporter is suiting me just fine.
Pam Robel is the sports reporter for the Columbia Basin Herald and a work in progress.
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