Building Bridges

My brother came to visit me for a week and I felt like a part of a social experiment. Like when twins are separated at birth and they analyse later on if there are any similarities even though they were brought up in completely different environments: Okay, my brother and I are not twins and we did live together until my early twenties, but, at the time, I felt we belonged to different universes. Well, it turns out that we are not so different after all. Psychologically, we are miles away; as far as I am concerned, emotionally (like physically) we are in different continents. But when it comes to taste and interest, we proved that we are our mother’s children.

It is funny how people develop an idea of who you are and what your life should be like. Upon taking my shoes off when entering my house he asked me if he should do the same. Apparently, taking my shoes off is “very me”. I’m still trying to figure out what “me” is like; but I guess me is fond of bare feet and baked courgette.

I think for an older sibling, the younger one will always be the baby (even if the baby is 25). I guess my housemates thought we’d host a toddler for a week, from the way I described him. But he is tall and has a deep voice (which I realized through a WhatsApp voice message; a message that I had to listen to over and over again to stop focusing on his post-pubescent voice and listen to what he was actually saying). You become an adult when you realize your little brother is already one.

Talking to my brother can develop into a migraine quite easily. He is a very smart guy, very rational and even though we speak the same language, it is like we address themes through a different dialect. He inspires me and depresses me at the same time. I become more aware of the world around me and my bubble seems shallow and futile. I feel it is important to have people who challenge you and in the niche world we live in now, it becomes easy to hang around a crowd with similar interests, thought processes and goals. I don’t want parallel disagreement either, I want intelligent interaction.

Maybe I’m missing out by not having him around; but maybe I can value our time together better than I would if I was in his constant company. Even though I reckon we have never burnt our bridges, I believe we have just built one.

Things that as a “Grown-Ass Adult” I don’t have

When do you become an adult? Is there an imaginary line that I am meant to cross? The blu tack stains on my wall are a mark (in more than one way) of my immaturity. Apparently you are meant to get frames, but who has the time and money? Then I’d have to drill holes on the marked walls and explain one or two (possibly seven) things to my landlord.

I had this rather naive idea that when you reach a certain age you stop making a fool of yourself on social media (like Facebook would block you when you declare your love for spiced chai lattes for the third time in a  week). That your awful pictures from the early 2000’s would stop popping up on your timeline like technological reflux. Or that you would eventually become cool enough to quit Facebook entirely.

Cooking seems to be a good indicator of adulthood and I like to think of myself as pretty inventive in the kitchen. The other day I made banana bread with no sugar (nothing says “grown up” quite like tasteless dough) by utilizing the extra amount of resources in my house. Later that day, I tried opening a bottle of Prosecco with a cork opener (yes, you read that right, I like a challenge). It was embarrassing, it looked like the opening of 2001: A Space Odyssey! 

I read an article on Buzzfeed: 25 Things Every Grown-Ass Adult Should Have. So I decided to mention some of those items and habits here and see how well I do on the “adulthood” test.

2 – A working printer

Does my housemate’s printer count as mine?

3 – Things hung upon the walls

I have those! They don’t mention HOW they should be hung upon.

15-  Flashlights and/or Candles + Matches

I have a set of candles and my “birthday lighter”. I hardly ever use them cause my mum thinks I’ll set the house on fire.

18 – Cloth Napkins

Seriously? We don’t even have kitchen towel in my house…

20 –  A Plant — That You Actually Know How to Take Care of

Let me tell you a story: once upon a time there was Coriander and Basil. Basil died and Coriander ran away. The End.

23-  The Name of at Least One of Your Neighbors

The only neighbor I know is the neighbor’s cat and I don’t even know its real name, we call him Frederico.

24- A Spot to Meet in the Event of a Fire

Not my room. (see 15)

I guess there is no time right? To become an adult. It’s just a word that we created to better organized clothes at H&M and programme TV slots. However, I do look forward to the day that I’ll make holes on my walls.