Me? An Adult?

It has come to my attention that somewhere along the line, somehow, for reasons best understood by someone much much smarter than I, that I have indeed turned into an adult. An adult! How the hell did that happen?

This process seems to have happened much earlier, and with more grace, for a number of my friends and family members. I have a few theories as to why my ‘maturity’ took a bit more time than it apparently for everyone else I know, but they are only theories.

I remember the moment I realized I was undeniably an adult; it was when I viewed my Alien Registration Card for the first time. The picture is horrid, ghastly I tell you; I look like a 30-something year old lunch lady, but that’s not what perpetuated this epiphany. It was the fact that I had done this thing, this seemingly insurmountable thing. I had moved to another country with 2 pieces of luggage, a camera, computer and ipod. Pretty much all of my possessions, minus a car I couldn’t give away – literally, I tried to give ol’ Boris to a friend in need, but they just shook their head is dismay, not that I can blame them. I think I’m the only one who can see the beauty in that beater.

I was on my way from careening through adolescence to surpassing young adulthood in record time when I experienced what can only be described as a colossal moment of self-doubt. Mind you, this moment lasted about 4 years. The certainty of my ability to live life was not only vague, but a complete fabrication. I don’t know anyone else who experienced this same phenomenon, so I have no one to compare my experience with, but imagine going to bed one night, rest assured that you are a talented, intelligent, hard-working kid and the world is your oyster, then, for some inexplicable reason, you wake up not only sure that the possibilities of life are just a pipe dream, but that all the people who have faith in your immeasurable talents are mistaken. Even liars.

It was one of those defining moments for me, one of the ‘before-and-after’ moments of my life. I’ve had a number of before-and-after moments that define intervals of time, but this one was devastating, and if for no other reason than I had no earthly idea what to do next.

So I did the only thing I knew how. I stayed in my regimen, worked at the same job, lived in the same place. I didn’t take any risks because the floor I had been so sure was just there, wasn’t, so why risk another monumental change of things I had previously thought were unchangeable? On more than one occasion the voice of Ellen Degeneres reverberated in my head.

Dory: “Hey Mr. Grumpy Gills. When life gets you down do you wanna know what you gotta do?”

Marlin: “I don’t wanna know what you gotta do.”

Dory: “Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming. What do we do? We swim, swim.”

Marlin: “Dory, no singing.”

Dory: “Ha, ha, ha, ho, ho. I love to swim. When you want to swim you want to swim.”

Marlin: “See I’m gonna get stuck now with that song... Now it’s in my head!”

Dory: “Sorry.”

Aw Pixar, leave it to you. So, that’s what I did, and somehow I got here. Korea? Well, yes Korea, but also, doing a job I love. Instructing. Buying a plethora of fruits and vegetables, making a budget and sticking to it. Establishing goals ranging from academic to financial. Thinking about the endless possibilities instead of the relentless impossibilities. And somehow, somewhere, I guess I became a member of the elite who refer to themselves as an adult, though I still find conversations about poo hilarious, and think that is entirely likely that I will continue to do so until the day I die. Because let’s face it folks, poo is funny, that’s all there is to it.