Turns out being a grown-up could be overrated.

Adulthood seems so great when you first start doing it. Living on your own, making your own decisions. Exciting! Fun! Adventures!

I could go to bed at 2am if I want (hah!), or 9:30pm. (Or let's face it, 8:30pm if I'm feeling really crazy.)  M&M's for dinner? Sure. Vacations to the other side of the world on short notice? Check.  Sleep on the couch because you just washed your sheets but didn't plan enough time to dry them before you needed to go to bed? Done it. And now I'm even adult enough to have a guest bedroom as back-up!  (Oh yep, done it.)
Psst. Please don't look in my bedroom right now and judge me, with the covers piled up on the middle of the bed next to a neatly folded pile of sheets, unmade. I just really hate making the bed, okay? That's part of the grown-up stuff that's not so fun. All the chores you especially hate are yours. 

Know what you don't quite get right away? Being a grown-up IS great, for much more substantive reasons than that.  But it's hard, and frequently uncomfortable.

I think I've mentioned before that it's been a really stressful year or so, mostly because of work. I feel like I'm in that awkward growing pains phase in life where I'm inexperienced enough to still be making a lot of mistakes, but experienced enough that I'm the one on the hook for them now… I'm not anyone's student or fellow anymore. I'm supposed to be learning how to be the one in charge.  (I'm finding this feeling is true for a lot of people at this stage in our lives, whether it be early in careers or marriage or parenting.)

Want to know what's really hard? Learning how to do it gracefully, not getting defensive or aggressive, learning when to stand your ground or when to take the hits and do what needs to be done, even in the times when it's not your fault. I've seen some really good examples of that in the last year, and some really bad ones. Lucky for me, I have a wonderful supervisor who happens to be one of the really good examples.

On the upside, a working group conference call that has felt to border on verbal abuse in recent weeks was actually pleasant today. It might be a breakthrough.

In the meantime, it makes a difference when you have people in your life who are in your corner.
Like this:

The virtual neighborhood.

A recent gem from my neighborhood's Facebook page:

Makes me kinda wish I'd left some shoes out.

A confession.

I love TV.

My parents are movie people. Oscar night was significant in our household growing up. They regularly go to the dollar theater, at least a couple times a month, and regularly give me the summary/review on the weekly phone call. They cover a wide variety of genres, and know a seemingly endless amount of movie and movie actor trivia. Not so much gossip, mind you, but trivia. This, no doubt, helps them with their daily NY Times crossword puzzle.

My siblings and I, however, are TV people. As a child, my brother could practically recite the TV listings -- there would occasionally be arguments over who got to read the TV Guide first on grocery shopping day. (Seriously.) My sister likened many important family events to "this is just like that time on Full House...".

Don't get me wrong, I really like movies, I even love some of them. I also get that movies (well, ahem, film) is probably the more classy thing to like. Oh well. There's just something about having a series of bite-sized 20 or 45 minute stories at intervals over an extended period of time that I find endearing.  Even when episodes can basically stand alone, I prefer watching them in order.

In truth, I don't think I really watch all that much TV these days. But, I do have a few shows that I keep up with, usually while fixing/eating dinner (thank the internet!).  And I didn't realize until they were back after the winter break how much I missed them.

"Work like you don't need the money, love like you've never been hurt, dance like no one is watching. Enjoy these Satchel Paige brand tampons."
- As quoted by Liz Lemon on 30 Rock.

While I'm unlikely to join a jazz dance team for the local WBNA franchise, it makes me feel like 2012 is starting off well. Also, this:

And seriously, if this episode doesn't crack you up, you might not have a sense of humor:

That's all. I basically don't understand TV snobs.

(Disclaimer: I do also read books.)

There be bugs.

I've been spending the holidays at home in Arizona enjoying, among other things, the beautiful weather.  Having grown up here, I have absolutely no nostalgia for cold or white Christmases.

In part to celebrate the sunny, 70 degree weather in December, we trekked over to Phoenix the other day to the Desert Botanical Gardens and wandered around for the afternoon.  In other (larger) part to see a current art installation, showcasing giant wooden bug sculptures scattered strategically throughout the park.

They were fun to see, but I mostly enjoyed wandering around the trails for a few hours and remembering how beautiful I think the desert is. Lush green trees and grass are beautiful, I know, but the desert is just so unique.  Besides, the Sonoran desert in southern Arizona is actually quite lush.  For a desert.

Among the oddities of plants and flowers and bugs (e.g., fairy duster, jimson weed, assassin bug, devils claw, boojum tree, ghost flower, hedgehog cactus, prickly pear...), I was amazed at how perfectly life seems to adapt to every extreme of geography and climate. Of course that seemed to mean there wasn't a plant there that didn't have thorns or spines or stickers of some sort. Well, or poison.  Some were pretty creative and/or downright deceptive.

Related side note:  I did end up bleeding at one point.  My own fault.  (Really though, you end up with a lot of cactus stories when you grow up around the desert. Occupational hazard.)

I even learned a few things. Did you know:

• There are four different and unique desert ecosystems in the US, and Arizona is the only state to contain parts of all four?
• Arizona has been called the hummingbird capital of the world?
• Daddy Long-legs aren't even spiders?  Also not poisonous.  

Traveling.

In the last couple months of blog hiatus, I haven't been home much... on travel as often as I'm here. A lovely trip to Australia on vacation for two weeks (my sixth continent!), and a work trip to London for two weeks (yeah, life is rough).

I think my subconscious is happy to be home. Last night I dreamed that squatters had moved into my house while I was gone. (Well, in my dream it was my house, even though it looked nothing like my actual house.) I noticed their stuff right away, but was still on hold trying to call the police when people started showing up. By then word had gotten out, and there were like 50+ people trying to come into my house.  I finally got them to leave... even though they didn't really get why it was a problem. They were awfully obliging, though, at least I got nice squatters. By then, my phone call to the police had been disconnected, so I called back, but sat on hold for another 30 minutes or so before I woke up. Apparently my subconscious also doubts the efficiency of the DeKalb County police.

I've been back for a week now, can I still blame the weird dreams on jetlag?  Only one more short work trip before Christmas. Which is good... I've committed to get a lot done before the end of the year!

With a door.

As of Monday, we moved into a new building at work, and I now officially occupy an office, with a door!

(It's still a little sterile at the moment.)

After many years of shared space, and 4 years here of having half a cubicle in a room with 9 other people, this is SO MUCH BETTER.  I think I'd generally been pretty good at blocking out the ambient noise when I needed to, but I'm amazed how much easier it is to concentrate when I'm not in a relatively small room filled with several other people's conversations and conference calls and typing and breathing and... okay you get the point.

I'm still getting used to the layout of our new space, but I may have already done previously unheard of things like shut the door for an hour to finish up a presentation I was stressed about.  In my past life, someone would always manage to interrupt at just the wrong time.  Tomorrow, conference call in my own space without disrupting anyone.  I may not be out of the cubicle farm forever, but for now I am enjoying my new walls.

And yet somehow all I can think of is this:

The first harvest.

Seven beans!

You may think seven green beans is nothing to write home about, but since only a couple of weeks ago all my garden's plants were tiny, yellow, and dying, I'd like to celebrate the fact that I was able to nurse some of them back to some semblance of health.   (After I almost killed them in the first place.  Hmm... Münchausen, anyone?)

Let's just say 2011 hasn't been my best ever start to vegetables.  But, I think I will be able to salvage a few beans, peas, tomatoes, and maybe some beets and carrots this summer.  Don't worry.  I'll keep you posted.