Top 10 Luxuries of Adult Domestic Life

Before I begin writing this I should specify that the adult domestic life that I am currently inhabiting is not my own. I've stolen it temporarily from my parents. I'm basically a glorified squatter for this Christmas holidays and as such I am able to benefit from all the amenities that full fledged adult hood can provide for you. To understand the dramatic transition I have made you must first understand my current living situation:

*Disclaimer #1: I realize that it is no longer Christmas. I wrote this in December and am just posting it now. I’m not a liar. I’m just lazy.

*Disclaimer #2: I'm about to go into a rant about my life. If you want to skip this please scroll down to the part where the letters get all bold and exciting. 

RANT: I spend the majority of my days sharing a 12 by 15 ft bedroom with a large bearded Kiwi and a skinny ginger stoner (both lovely people) in a dilapidated building in Scotland. Our idea of home renos and improvements consist of said stoner inventing some kind of contraption that will allow him to access his xbox controller without having to leave the sanctuary of his top bunk. There are fairy lights running in a Pac Man like pattern down the ceiling that diverge strategically around a dead shag fly. I think this may count as art. The chorus of the night has three parts and they go as such: The tenor comes in first from the hallway as Spaniards shout excited and heart-warming sentiments to their friends and family over Skype (they're either sentiments or death threats. I dunno I only took 2 years of Spanish). Then the altos come in. They're the drug addicts screaming at each other from 3 stories below. That part can be disturbing but it's ok because then the soprano comes in… an Irish stag party will often pass and drown all this out with their drunken rugby chants. We live on the busiest street, right in the city centre which is why we get front row seats to this concert each night (location, location, location). But it's all part of the charm. The room smells like we're living inside of a giant pizza box that someone farted in. If you want to get rid of the smell you generally have to spray something or light a candle but then it just smells like farty-pizza scented candle. Which some people could be into. I dunno. I prefer lavender. We order pizza every single night because apparently we would rather become personified versions of whatever I imagine gluten to be than actually walk down 3 flights of stairs and venture into a grocery store. If I have to eat one more pizza I may be forced to crush myself under our beer bottle collection and become the new permanent fixture, squished on the floor opposite Mr. Shag fly. And no one wants that (I don't have the same post-impressionist charm as Mr. Shag fly).

END RANT

So yah! That's what I'm working with these days. Not exactly the Hilton but I like it. Until, that is, I stumbled back into the sweet SWEET luxury that is La Casa de Mis Padres (there's some of that second year Spanish again for ya.) Let me tell you, it has multiple rooms, a full sized fridge, AND tissue paper. It's funny how you don't realize how rich your parents are before you move out but damn... it is a lavish life they lead. So without further ado (and I know there was a lot of ado), these are the:

 Top 10 Luxuries of Adult Domestic Life

1) Multiple rooms. If someone is in a room and you don't want to be around anyone, YOU CAN WALK INTO A DIFFERENT ROOM. Privacy can in fact be more than putting in your headphones and a blanket over your eyes or running into a communal bathroom stall to cry softly.  LUXURY.

2) You can sing as loudly as you want! I’m talking belting show tunes at the top of your lungs and there’s a whole yard between you and the next house. Anyone who likes to sing will automatically get this and anyone who doesn't won't so that's all I need to say. You can sing as loudly as you want. LUXURY.

3) Watching TV on an actual TV so you can do shit on your computer at the same time. LUXURY.

4) A car gets you places and it does it faster than your legs would. LUXURY.

5) You can go to the fridge and its full of stuff other than beer and moldy Tupper ware that you’re going to end up throwing out instead of cleaning. LUXURY.  

6) When you answer the door it’s probably just something you ordered from amazon and not a junkie who found his way into the building.  LUXURY.

7) The fire alarm will probably only ever go off when there’s a fire. LUXURY.

8) Your family probably won’t set a mattress on fire.  LUXURY.

9) Your neighbors aren’t clearly orchestrating a complex drug ring with the homeless people in your community. LUXURY.

10) FINALLY (and this is the big one): Toilet paper and… tissue paper. I feel that this is one of the most underrated differences between adult domestic life and… whatever the fuck I’m doing right now. They have two different types of paper, each of which cater to TWO DIFFERENT TYPES OF SKIN! They cater SPECIFICALLY to ass or nose. This is a luxury that I never knew was a luxury. I’ll know that I’ve made it in life when I buy separate types of fabric to wipe my ass and my nose. SUCCESS. Also…. *whispered* LUXURY.

So yes. Someday I hope to achieve this level of success and luxury but it’s important to remember that it is not in the stars for everyone. Don’t set your sights too high. Don’t reach for the stars. That’s scary. Just reach for a near by ledge. Any who, for now I’m going to soak it all up and use this valuable time to treat myself. And also to hang out with pets, which is actually the part I envy most about an adult domestic life. Being able to have fur people that greet you at the door when you walk in and cuddle with you at night and cause adorable chaos is the ultimate luxury. Can’t wait till I’m responsible and in one place enough to have a pet, and I will treat them to all the toilet and tissue paper that their little fur person heart desires.

Luxury.

SLUTTY BRUNCH

 Listen up children! Go get your girdle, prepare your push up bra AND GET READY FOR......

It's the groundbreaking trend that's sweeping the nation (it could be sweeping a nation somewhere, possibly Uzbekistan, we can't be sure). Slutty brunch was conceived in a moment of vain desperation. My friend had an outfit that she knew she looked phenomenal in but (alas) twas too classy for a trashy night and a too trashy for a classy night. 

"Maybe you could wear it to brunch. Except it would have to be, you know.... a slutty brunch." 

BAM! Slutty Brunch was born. I will now present a short poem I wrote in honour of this revelation. 

Now, it doesn't have to be an overtly sexual outfit. The point is that the outfit should be "inappropriate". Whatever that means to you.

Cause I'm bluffin with my muffin somethin somethin

Perhaps the cut on that shirt is too low...SLUTTY BRUNCH.

Perhaps the print on that jacket is too loud... SLUTTY BRUNCH.

Perhaps you think bindis are awesome but you're not even a little bit Indian and don't want to wear one in public for fear that you might offend and do that cultural appropriation thing and yada yada yada... SLUTTY BRUNCH!

So go forth my pretties! Let there be muffins and muffin tops, pastries and pasties. After all, how often do you get to play the provocateur before noon? And surrounded by delicious baked goods no less. 

To wrap up, here are some photos of delicious baked goods.