That's how we do

A few weeks ago, a friend from college wrote on my Facebook wall that the Lyz of college would be disappointed in how active the Lyz of today is. Nothing like getting the HOW DARE YOU ACHIEVE THE GOALS WHICH YOU'VE SET OUT TO CONQUER messages. I don't know if the Lyz of yesteryear would really be mad that the Lyz of today wakes up for a run, works two jobs and goes to grad school. I mean, it's not like I have to put on pants to do 2/3 of those items. Plus, the running just means more chicken nuggets, so really it evens out. But she might have a point. The Lyz who walked around in jeans covered in Marxist slogans, carrying a duct-taped backpack and stealing plants from various campus buildings might be peeved that at this moment I am thinking about how much Chris Cuomo annoys me and has anyone seen my Metamucil? Seriously folks. At this moment in my life I have a pedicure and an Avon lady (Word up, Loftus!) What's wrong with me?

I can hear my mom shouting from Kansas, "We all grow up...and then have babies LOTS AND LOTS OF BABIES! GIVE ME GRANDBABIES!" But really, I've just traded one set of petulance for another. Instead of taking on the establishment, I'm passive-aggressively glaring at my neighbor as she trims her hedges STANDING IN MY YARD. Then, at night, I sneak out and pour wiper fluid on her ugly bush that is planted on OUR SIDE.

Because that's how we grown-ups do.

Which reminds me of a story a girl told me about staying at her boyfriend's parent's house and seeing her boyfriends mother run buck naked to answer the phone (apparently it was her boyfriend's baby mamma calling). In the process of running she slipped on the linoleum and old lady bits were quivering and wobbling everywhere. "Tell your momma to put on some clothes," my friend shouted at her boyfriend. He came over to her and gently put his arm around her. "Aww, baby," he said, "that's just how we do."

There is a moral there. A pantsless old lady moral. But if you'll excuse me, I'm out of wiper fluid.