Growing up

What exactly is it that defines a grown-up, and when does one cross the threshold into being one?

I was having this very discussion with several friends on New Year's Eve. Then, all of a sudden, it happened... One week later, and I've got a home, a mortgage, and I'm going to be someone's "old lady."

It's not that I have problem with being a grown-up, or that I'm
scared or anything, it just kind of snuck up on me.

Two years ago, I was renting my friend's guest house in LA, going out to clubs, and my idea of making dinner was nuking a bag of popcorn and de-corking a cheap bottle of merlot to the sounds of Sex and the City, with no idea where my life would take me. But then again, I was also painfully lonely, over-medicated, and almost completely devoid of hope. I'd definitely rather be grown-up, content, and even, dare I say, predictable, over any of those things.

And just because I may be perceived by some of my friends as the G word, it doesn't mean I have to act like one... In fact, I think for my MLK day off of work, I am going to unpack my clothes while dancing around my new place in my Honeydew panties and belting out tunes from Madonna's Immaculate Collection into my hairbrush. That whole grown-up thing can wait, well, at least until my next mortgage payment is due.