TST: The True Marker of True Adulthood (and why it's not what we think)

At first it seems the markers for adulthood are obvious. First, one must have one's own toys... then bra, then more toys, then sex, then one's own room. Sure, dear reader, maybe that's putting the sex before the cart... but you didn't grow up in my family. Unless you did. And then you know what I mean.

Anyway, eventually one gets one's own drink! Then car, then apartment, where can have sex whenever one wants. Now, it seems, adulthood has made a true appearance - anywhere one wants to go, do anything one wants to do, drinky drinky, stay up late, tra lalala, doing with/to whomever one wants to do one's very own things one wants to do! Yes, yes!

But soon (last night) one realizes it is not this, is none of these "this's". These are not what make one An Adult.

The real moment comes when one has new, spare toothbrushes for Guests.

This requires amazing foresight and self-certainty, namely:

1) Certainty that one actually has friends
2) Friends must verifiably no MIND spending a whole night away from their own room/sex/car/apartment;
3) The foresight to be able to predict an as-yet unidentified friend will someday stay.
4) Long-term memory to remember this at the store
5) Disposable income to purchase such a luxury

This luxury entirely depends on the confidence that one has created one's own room, apartment, and friends, and for this, one must be prepared to provide them with what they need too - a fresh clean toothbrush.

This is an inevitable slide toward Grand Adulthood, which is only occasionally represented by this special marker: TST (The Spare Toothbrush).

Name The Va-Jay-Jay!

Friends One and All,

This is your chance! Anjani needs to name The Girl, da Va-Geena, Va-Jay-Jay. Sure, it's important, but why now, you ask?

Why at ALL, I say!!

Look, a person (with a va-jay-jay) gets to a point in her life where she is on the phone with Mary Beth and they are talking about vaginas and she suddenly realizes, "Holy snappin duck shit! The Girl's got no freakin NAME down there!"

So, turning to my friends, I implore you: what's the name??

I will buy a free coffee for the winner. And then I will drink it.

-Anjani

PS - here is a Vagina Couch.*

(*Previously Posted on San Fran Craigslist)

On Keys and Trust

THE DEAL: If some miracle were to occur such that humans were to unequivocally trust all others forevermore, the sad truth is that this event would prove to be a calamity for key-makers worldwide. Car doors, front doors, bike locks, office keys, hotel card keys, passwords... all of these things are based entirely upon our lack of trust of one another as a species. (I wonder what all the key businesses make per year, put together?) Locksmiths, too, they would be out of luck. Electronic lock monitoring companies? Poof!

THE GRAND THEORY THEN: Naturally, it's obvious that these people ARE the Illuminati. They spread distrust around the world so that Monday morning, they can have the pleasure of returning to the corner drug store to make us, what? MORE KEYS.

THE SAGE ADVICE: Next time you might think twice about the guy in the swanky red vest who is oh-so-eager to make you those new keys because you lost yours on the coast in a drunken weekend playing Strip "Go-Fish" like I did when I was 8. Well, I played the game, and I wasn't on the coast, and I didn't own any keys yet, so I didn't lose them, and I was drinking milk. But you get my drift.

-Anjani

PS: I just realized that, of course, why didn't I see it before, those last two syllables in Illuminati: let's sound it out together.... "naugh....TY!"