Really? That just happened.

I realize I haven't written in over a week. I apologize but only a little. I write when I have something half-way worthwhile to elaborate on and so my lack of posting is not necessarily only the result of my need for a 25th hour in the day but also an underwhelming amount of thought-provoking moments and inspiring conversations. That happens when you live on a college campus in the summer and especially when you reside in such a place without enrollment in classes. 

Anyway. I was writing about 7 minutes ago. This was a reflection on the societal definition of the beginning of adulthood. I was very much bewildered by the concept since I am twenty years old but still do not feel as though I am nearing the point in time when I am considered "a grown up." Granted, to young children (anyone under the age of 10, I'd say) I am probably considered a grown up...at least kind of. To them, I'm more than "one of the big kids" but something less still than their parents or teachers or the cashier at the grocery store. 


Anyway. As I was outwardly pondering the subject, I worked through a series of questions in an attempt to understand what makes a person a grown up. Clearly, something went wrong because you cannot read this post I currently speak of. Guess....

I answered my own question.

I HATE IT WHEN THAT HAPPENS!
Well, I do and I don't.
I like answers. I need answers. I want to know why things are the way they are and how they got that way and if they will change and if they change why they do and so on and so forth. There are answers, I intend to find them. Sometimes though, I enjoy the pursuit. Research papers entail much work but it is work I find enjoyable (if on a subject of my interest) because I so love learning. Many people my age prefer answers to be handed to them. Rarely do college students research questions they do not know the answers to, or better yet, research questions the world may not have answers for yet. I've done both.

Anyway. I answered my own question. I realized that this status, this label of "grown up" is attached to a person who achieves the following: a certain age (this is relative to cultural standards--in America it lies somewhere between the ages of 18 and 22), financial independence, and a certain educational status (again, this is variable to the culture). For example, because he is living at home this summer and my parents do not require him to pay rent or subsidize the food or utility costs, my brother is still not a grown up though he is 22 and has graduated from college.

Good deal. But really. I like ti when I have to work a little harder than simply typing my thoughts out for a few minutes. In a strange way, that was a frustrating experience.