Advice for Grown-ups #11313: Change your address

When you move, there are certain steps you can take in order to make your life easier. Well, not easier, just...less of a pain in the ass. And while you're at it, you can make several other people's lives less horrible, too!

One thing you really need to get a handle on is changing your address. Lemme be clear about one thing:

 

Giving the post office your forwarding address does almost nothing.

Imagine you use a phone book. Let's just pretend that's still a thing that people do. Telling the post office you've moved is like changing your number in the phone book. If you don't tell your grandma that you have a different phone number, she's going to keep calling your old number. She's not looking you up in the phone book. She has your number. It's in the address book you got her for Mother's Day, ya cheap jerk.

And you know the post office will only forward your mail for so long...right? Yeah. You're going to have to do a little bit of work.

 

Make a basic list.

There are organizations that need to be notified when you change your address. The quick way to make your list is to go thought your mail -snail or electronic. All of the monthly bills, newsletters, and financial statements represent companies that need your new information.

Think about companies and organizations that send you things on a regular basis. Do you frequently order things from Amazon? Netflix coming to your door every week? Calling First Wok for delivery again? Remember to give your new address.

Seriously. Your bank won't forward your mail.

This is a really good reason to take the time to notify the necessary companies that you're moving. If you want to keep getting important information about CD rates, rewards programs, and mergers, just pop in. Fill out a change of address form. You can probably do it online. That way, when your bank gets bought by another bank, you'll know about it instead of being angry and confused later when your card stops working. You'll avoid the messy situation of having your new debit card and PIN sent to whoever lives in your old apartment.

Tell Big Brother where you are.

If you do things like vote and pay taxes, you'll need to let someone know where you are. Let's jump out of the still-using-a-phone-book world and enter the present, where everything is a keyword away. You can look up all of this stuff on this amazing thing called the Internet. There are helpful websites there, like this one: http://www.ehow.com/how_4842787_change-name-address-voting.html

Be a grownup is hard, but you're going to have to do it if you want to avoid pissing yourself off later.

Advice for Grown-Ups #91413: Learn how to attend a wedding

How did I get to be such awesome wedding guests? Experience. I've been to a lot of weddings, and I planned and survived my own. You may not care about being awesome at this. Maybe you just want to scrape by. That's cool. If you don't want to read the rest of this incredibly helpful advice, take this one bit with you:

Be self-sufficient.

Mike and I started dating when I was 21 and he was 27. He got invited to a lot of weddings because that's what people do in their late 20s, I guess. I would go with him, being sure to put on an air of casual-yet-classy fun, because I was his new, cool girlfriend. I was the one who laughed at the bouquet toss. I was willing to try exotic foods and meet new people. I didn't secretly take notes for The Most Important Special Day that Mike and I were bound to have very soon (because, let's face it, I was the casual-yet-classy woman of his freaking dreams) and we always had a wonderful time.

Over the next 8 years, Mike stood up in 4 weddings while I made small talk with wives, boyfriends, and awkward pre-teens. I held babies; I ran errands for bridesmaids; I set up sing-in tables. By the time our first anniversary rolled around, Mike and I had attended three weddings together. We continued that average and, eight years later, when our Big Day came, we had two dozen ceremonies under our collective belt.

There are some basic things you need to know before I get to the rules of wedding attendance:

1. Weddings are super expensive; even the simple ones.
   As a general rule, assume that several people are sharing the cost of seating, feeding, watering, entertaining, and transporting every single body that is expected in that ballroom/barn/forest clearing. There are ways to trim down the cost, but a wedding is still among the most expensive grown-up experiences.
2. Adults completely forget how to act like adults at weddings.
   A lot of the stress that comes with planning a wedding is from finances, yes, but even more so from family and friends. A woman carefully crafts a website with pertinent information, and you call her for directions the day before the wedding. A man explains why children are not invited, and you bring your three kids. You're not perfect, and no one expects you to be, but do you have to be so effing inconsiderate? It's shocking.
3. Someone else's wedding is not about you and your bullshit.
   Your ex is going to be there? Suck it up or don't go. Bummed that your friend is getting married before you? Stop being a self-centered asshole. Your marriage is horrible? That's your problem. Divorced and miserable? Leave it at the door. Single? It's not a race. Get it together, you guys, and stop acting like a buncha poo-flinging animals.
4. Weddings stir up a lot of crap.
   Family dynamics; opinions about marriage equality; self-esteem issues; unspoken attraction between cousins; illegitimate children. It all gets laid out on the table, and it feels like everything has to be dealt with on a deadline. That is super intense. The important thing to remember is that it will pass and other things will come along to distract everyone.

Of course, every wedding is a special snowflake. Everyone has a different idea of what marriage means. Your job is to be supportive and let the couple know you'll be there for them when things are blah blah blinky bladdy blah.

Alright. Are you ready for me to drop some knowledge? Here we go:

1. Know who's invited.
   If your name is the only one on the envelope or e-vite, that means you are the one invited to the wedding. You may not bring your fuck buddy. You may not ask if you may bring your fuck buddy. You may not bring your husband, girlfriend, kids, work friends, or favorite Power Ranger. If you're not sure, assume the invitation is for one. Your fuck buddy will understand.
2. RSVP. ASAP.
   This is not Game of Thrones at your buddy's place. You need to let your hosts know whether or not you will be there. Send your response the same day if you can swing it.
3. Be flexible.
   Dance to music you don't like. Participate in strange, new traditions. If you don't particularly love chicken cordon bleu, don't be a dick about it. Keep your mouth shut and eat the chicken.
4. Be prepared.
   You wanna have a good time, doncha? Bring an extra pair of comfy shoes for dancing. Book a baby-sitter that works late. Carry small bills for an open or cash bar. Pack some extra tampons in your purse -you'll be someone's hero by the end of the day.
5. Don't drive drunk.
   Have a designated driver or taxi planned. Don't be selfish. The last thing this couple needs is to remember that time you died right after the most important day of their lives.
6. Give the couple what they asked for, not what you think they should want.
   Purchase gifts from the registry or give cash. This is the one time when giving gifts is super simple, and they will not be considered impersonal. You know what? Just give cash.
7. Write “or” on the check.
   This is important. When you write a check to “John and Jane Smith,” only that combination of people can cash or deposit that check. It's a giant pain in the ass.
8. Wear your fancy pants.
   It's better to be overdressed than under. This is especially true at a wedding. If you show up in a tuxedo and everyone else has linen suits, you're still gonna look like a badass.
9. Visit the couple's website.
   This is that self-sufficiency thing we talked about. Don't be a needy asshole. Check the website.
10. Roll with the changes.
    No one goes by Mrs. His First Name His Last Name anymore. Sometime gay people get married. Couples don't move in together the day after their wedding. Receptions have sex pits now. You have to accept the passing of times, guys.

Now you're ready for any wedding that comes your way! Formal or casual, churchy or demonic, weddings all follow a basic time line: planning, declaration, celebration. You can be the life of the party or the invisible wallflower. Whatever your style, use these simple guidelines and you're guaranteed to stay out of trouble.

Advice for Grown Ups #8613: Never drink a good latte

Unless you're ready for a lifetime of incredible lattes, don't even sip that first one. Do yourself a favor and keep drinking Starbucks or whatever the burnt-tasting hell it is they serve at the grocery store café, because once you have a good latte... (I'm talkin' 'bout a real latte, made on a clean machine, with organic whole milk and perfectly crafted espresso beans.) Once you've had a mixture of flavors so smooth and enticing, you'll drive across town for it...

OK. Did you ever read Flowers for Algernon? Yeah. So you get it. You can't just go back to being sexually repressed and mentally challenged and whatnot, not after having an amazing latte like that.

(What the hell am I talking about? Check it: http://www.sparknotes.com/lit/algernon/summary.html)

My sister owns a café, and I worked for her the first summer they were open. I learned how to taste coffee. I discovered the complex flavors that go into a hot cup of Get Your Ass Up in the Morning. I learned the craft; the science of the bean; the art of the pour. Then, when summer was over, I got another job.

I started drinking the coffee at work.

I stopped drinking the coffee at work.

I've had lattes at other cafes, of course. I had one of those mint-and-chocolate concoctions at the airport over Christmas because I was tired. We had a long, uncomfortable flight ahead of us and...you know what? I don't have to explain myself to you. I wanted some coffee. I knew it would taste like shit, alright? I knew. So I had them pour a bunch of sugary crap on it so I wouldn't have to taste it.

I did. Have mercy on me, I tasted it. Evil like that cuts through peppermint syrup like a hot blade through butter.

I choked down half of the offensive brew and tossed the rest in the garbage. I felt like a traitor. I had lowered myself for the thrill that coffee's facsimile offers and never quite delivers. (Not to mention the guilt of throwing away "perfectly good" food. Does a luxury beverage count? Are there starving kids in Africa who would sacrifice a day's wages for a shitty paper cup full of airport coffee beverage?) What I had put in my mouth was the pleather of caffeinated beverages. I drank a mask-wearing villain, posing as espresso and milk. (Holy Baby Jesus, I don't even want to think about what they used for "milk." I can't handle skim, for sweet fuck's sake, and there's no way this stuff would be considered real by even McDonald's standards.) I needed a shower.

And then there was the time we registered for a Keurig...

Advice for Grown Ups #8113: Learn how to manage your time

I would talk about that more but...

Advice for Grown Ups #71913: Never search Etsy without knowing exactly what you're looking for.

Etsy will be the death me.

I've lost hours -weeks- just cruisin' around that little internet village. I've waded through twine-and-linen baby shower banners; collections of antique buttons from the Civil War; iPhone covers with obscure silent film posters air brushed on them. I have seen so many goddamn messenger bags with silk screen bird designs, I could puke. I could just vomit all over the place, and then carry all of my brilliant manuscripts to my local coffee house in my brand-new, hand-made, Earth-friendly shoulder bag.

Etsy has forced me to imagine a life in which I am whimsical and efficient. In this Etsy-furnished life I am organized but not uptight. I enjoy the sturdy practicality of the past, and I value the process and time it takes to get me exactly what I Etsy want. I have little spice bins in my Etsy kitchen; they have pictures of coffee-producing countries on them. (In my Etsy home, my husband cooks me a vegetarian dinner from local ingredients while wearing a full-length apron that has a gigantic handlebar mustache on it.) In Etsy winter, I store my cold weather accessories in a re-purposed lingerie bag from the 1940s. In summer, I wear Etsy swim goggles with genuine pieces from Pretty Pretty Princess glued on them. I store our Etsy beach toys in an old butter churn. I have my shit together, and it is together in vintagey-looking, modern-minded, super-expensive (But can you put a price on happiness?) style.

 

Addendum: If you are a millionaire and/or have an incredible amount of time to sacrifice, be my Etsy guest. Browse that never-ending rabbit hole of crafts and bobbles until you die a satisfied, refurbished death. Otherwise, have a specific goal in mind. Pay for your new hand-knit leg warmers and get the hell out of there.