Grown Ish Quotes

Intentions are nice, but ultimately intentions don't really matter because they only exist inside you.

A slightly modified version of the Serenity Prayer: Lord, grant me the serenity to ignore the assholes I cannot avoid; The luck to avoid the ones I can; And the self-awareness not to be one myself

Be the kind of friend that you want to have. This is what it all boils down to. Listen when they bitch. Tell them they'll be okay. Go over and check in on their cat when they're on vacation. Call them on their birthday, or better yet bake a cake in the shape of their initial. Keep their secrets. Treat them like what they are--the rare person in this world who gives a fuck about you not because they have to, but because they want to. Give a fuck about them.

Meaning to send a thank-you note but then not doing it is exactly the same as never thinking to send one -- that person is still receiving zero thank you notes.

One of the most jolting days of adulthood comes the first time you run out of toilet paper. Toilet paper, up until this point, always just existed. And now it's a finite resource, constantly in danger of extinction, that must be carefully tracked and monitored, like pandas?

You're a grown-up, and you get to decide what behaviors affect you for five minutes versus what behaviors change you as a person.

If we were all our most real and raw selves every moment of the day things would be just awful. The world would be full of man-size toddlers.

Your parents, presumably, love you very much and think you are perhaps the most adorable, talented thing ever to prance upon this earth. Your friends agree with them, as do your favorite teachers, as does your significant other. When there is a You Parade, these people will be the flag bearers, the drum majors and majorettes, so make sure you are always flag bearing and drum majoring for them, too. These people who think so highly of us are very special and precious, and we must treasure them. Because here is the truth: Most of the world doesn’t give a flying fuck about you.

A big part of being a well-adjusted person is accepting that you can’t be good at everything.

Remember that, for better or for worse, you are in control of your physical self and surroundings

Step 6: Stop enjoying things ironically. Just enjoy them Know what? I love Britney Spears and Forever 21. And I could pretend like it’s this whole meta thing where I’m not actually enjoying it but rather just making this esoteric statement on lowbrow culture, but (insert handjob motion here). The truth is that I love trashy dance pop and the garments that are its clothing equivalent. You don’t need to make your tastes a self-conscious statement about who you are. Just unapologetically like the things you like.

This is the most difficult and important thing to accept if you wish to be a grown-up: You are not a Special Snowflake.

Imagine rude people as jellyfish

It's not as though the world hates you- it just has no idea who you are

Here is what I’m trying to tell you: Adult isn’t a noun, it’s a verb. It’s the act of making correctly those small decisions that fill our day.

remember that there was at least one person who thought Einstein was a colossal dick.

Some people have blond hair. Some people are really good at baseball. Some people find nothing more pleasurable than organizing a drawer full of buttons. Some people are assholes. This is the human spectrum.

Because here is the truth: Most of the world doesn’t give a flying fuck about you.

Pay attention to natural consequences, then learn to anticipate them

Jellyfish do not respond to reason, they usually don’t respond to kindness, and they will always show up to ruin a fun party if possible.

You don’t need to make your tastes a self-conscious statement about who you are. Just unapologetically like the things you like.

People will come to care about you, but only if you give them a valid reason. Don’t assume they’ll give you love like your parents, emotional support like your best friend, and cheerful feedback like a soccer coach for seven-year-olds. Because they won’t, unless you give them good reason to. And even then, they still probably won’t.

Wise random strangers at bars are modern-day Oracles of Delphi, except drunk and sometimes leaving abruptly when it's their turn for karaoke.

If you wouldn’t show or tell your mom, boss, and ex-boyfriend, then don’t put it on Facebook.

People aren't good at processing important things when they're naked

You are already way more of an adult than you think you are. Truly. Be good, be decent, be responsible, be kind. And don’t forget to send thank-you notes.

Step 45: Do not keep things in your house that make you feel sad or bad

When you begin at the beginning, any progress you make is yours.

But the fact is people who always have at least a quarter tank of gas and refill the tank as soon as it dips below that line will never run out of gas on a backwoods mountain road and have to be rescued by a kindhearted trucker. Or murdered by a non-kindhearted trucker.

Step 35: Do not leave to crust for tomorrow what may be wiped up today

Whatever you do, do not allow an army of white wine bottles to amass under your kitchen sink, like those terra-cotta soldiers, except made of shame.

If it’s making a galloping noise, it’s probably a horse, not a zebra.

It is hard to convince people of this, but oatmeal truly is miraculous. It gives you an amazing amount of energy, like cocaine.

Whatever happens immediately post-graduation, chances are good that it will be at least a little disappointing.

Or you graduate law school with glorious visions of the important work you’ll do for the Southern Poverty Law Center, but find yourself photocopying briefs in Shreveport.

Natural consequences is actually a parenting concept, but one I use on myself, because sometimes my ability to thoughtfully reflect on a difficult situation is in line with a four-year-old’s.

But it has perks -- personal pride, financial security, and the feeling of accomplishment and control that comes when you just swap in a new toilet paper roll rather than resorting to fast-food napkins.

HAZEL WASN’T PROUD OF CRYING. After the tunnel collapsed, she wept and screamed like a two-year-old throwing a tantrum. She couldn’t move the debris that separated her and Leo from the others. If the earth shifted any more, the entire complex might collapse on their heads. Still, she pounded her fists against the stones and yelled curses that would’ve earned her a mouth-washing with lye soap back at St. Agnes Academy. Leo stared at her, wide-eyed and speechless. She wasn’t being fair to him. The last time the two of them had been together, she’d zapped him into her past and shown him Sammy, his great-grandfather—Hazel’s first boyfriend. She’d burdened him with emotional baggage he didn’t need, and left him so dazed they had almost gotten killed by a giant shrimp monster. Now here they were, alone again, while their friends might be dying at the hands of a monster army, and she was throwing a fit. “Sorry.” She wiped her face. “Hey, you know…” Leo shrugged. “I’ve attacked a few rocks in my day.” She swallowed with difficulty. “Frank is…he’s—” “Listen,” Leo said. “Frank Zhang has moves. He’s probably gonna turn into a kangaroo and do some marsupial jujitsu on their ugly faces.” He helped her to her feet. Despite the panic simmering inside her, she knew Leo was right. Frank and the others weren’t helpless. They would find a way to survive. The best thing she and Leo could do was carry on. She studied Leo. His hair had grown out longer and shaggier, and his face was leaner, so he looked less like an imp and more like one of those willowy elves in the fairy tales. The biggest difference was his eyes. They constantly drifted, as if Leo was trying to spot something over the horizon. “Leo, I’m sorry,” she said. He raised an eyebrow. “Okay. For what?” “For…” She gestured around her helplessly. “Everything. For thinking you were Sammy, for leading you on. I mean, I didn’t mean to, but if I did—” “Hey.” He squeezed her hand, though Hazel sensed nothing romantic in the gesture. “Machines are designed to work.” “Uh, what?” “I figure the universe is basically like a machine. I don’t know who made it, if it was the Fates, or the gods, or capital-G God, or whatever. But it chugs along the way it’s supposed to most of the time. Sure, little pieces break and stuff goes haywire once in a while, but mostly…things happen for a reason. Like you and me meeting.” “Leo Valdez,” Hazel marveled, “you’re a philosopher.” “Nah,” he said. “I’m just a mechanic. But I figure my bisabuelo Sammy knew what was what. He let you go, Hazel. My job is to tell you that it’s okay. You and Frank—you’re good together. We’re all going to get through this. I hope you guys get a chance to be happy. Besides, Zhang couldn’t tie his shoes without your help.” “That’s mean,” Hazel chided, but she felt like something was untangling inside her—a knot of tension she’d been carrying for weeks. Leo really had changed. Hazel was starting to think she’d found a good friend. “What happened to you when you were on your own?” she asked. “Who did you meet?” Leo’s eye twitched. “Long story. I’ll tell you sometime, but I’m still waiting to see how it shakes out.” “The universe is a machine,” Hazel said, “so it’ll be fine.” “Hopefully.” “As long as it’s not one of your machines,” Hazel added. “Because your machines never do what they’re supposed to.” “Yeah, ha-ha.” Leo summoned fire into his hand. “Now, which way, Miss Underground?” Hazel scanned the path in front of them. About thirty feet down, the tunnel split into four smaller arteries, each one identical, but the one on the left radiated cold. “That way,” she decided. “It feels the most dangerous.” “I’m sold,” said Leo. They began their descent.

Whether someone is short or tall or originally from Canada or gay or Asian or born to rich parents or redheaded or whatever—that’s not something they chose or cultivated in themselves, and it’s not something they work for. What makes someone good and valuable is not these traits. It’s the choices they make and the things they do.

Like heartbreak, these unpredictable crises are not something you should live in fear of. Perpetual fear won't protect you. Fear is not a citronella candle; scary life happenings are not mosquitoes. They happen in ways we can't predict, control or understand. The only guaranteed outcome of feeling scared all the time is that you will feel scared all the time.

Step 17: Get used to giving more than you get. A natural transition, as we go from being kids to adults, is to go from being self-oriented to other-oriented. When we're little, all this love flows to us, and none is expected back. That ratio has now changed, and if you don't acknowledge it, you will not be a pleasant person to be around.

One who has many dead bugs trapped between the windowpanes in your bedroom, which doesn’t make sense, because how did they even get there?

The lure of a nice apartment is not justification for dropping your pet off at the shelter.

Lord, grant me the serenity to ignore the assholes I cannot avoid; The luck to avoid the ones I can; And the self-awareness not to be one myself

Sooner or later, you will lock yourself out of your house. It’s just unavoidable.

A chef’s knife can do almost anything, if it’s of good quality.

One of the most jolting days of adulthood comes the first time you run out of toilet paper.

Most things that feel like an emergency or a disaster at age twenty-one are not, actually, an emergency or a disaster

someone who isn’t afraid to log on to online banking.

If you’re like most people, your bed is the physical object in the world that you will touch the most. You spend a third of your life with that thing! It should be comfy. If you can scrape together five hundred dollars—maybe, say, from a tax return, or maybe put away forty dollars each month—you can sleep like a king for years and you will never, ever regret it.

Also, this sounds obvious, but rags can be laundered, albeit not with your other laundry. It’s gotta be a rag-only load, unless you are cool with your clothes being washed in all that detritus you removed from your countertops.

A big part of being a well-adjusted person is accepting that you can’t be good at everything. Some things will always be hard. Decide what you can do in those arenas, without making yourself crazy or setting unreasonably high expectations, then feel proud when you do it.

If you’re on a budget, check out thrift stores or garage sales. Look for signs of quality, like copper bottoms, cast iron, or stainless steel. Someone with limited money would do far better buying used than buying cheap stuff from Walmart. If you are determined to buy new, check out places like T.J.Maxx, the HomeGoods store, Ross—anywhere that’s likely to have top-quality items for low prices.

There's an incredible Tupac song that does not mince words in its hook: "Motherfucker, watch ya mouth." Granted, Tupac is issuing threats to associates of a mid-1990s hip-hop label, but these are still powerful words to take with you wherever you go. Just because there is an idea bouncing around in your head does not mean it needs to be sent out into the universe. And if you follow these steps, you'll greatly reduce your chances of having to explore your toes with your tongue (metaphorically speaking).

After being conditioned as a child to the lovely never-never land of magic, of fairy queens and virginal maidens, of little princes and their rosebushes, of poignant bears and Eeyore-ish donkeys, of life personalized, as the pagans loved it, of the magic wand, and the faultless illustrations—the beautiful dark-haired child (who was you) winging through the midnight sky on a star-path in her mother’s box of reels—of Griselda in her feather-cloak, walking barefoot with the Cuckoo in the lantern-lit world of nodding mandarins, of Delight in her flower garden with the slim-limbed flower sprites … all this I knew, and felt, and believed. All this was my life when I was young. To go from this to the world of “grown-up” reality … To feel the sexorgans develop and call loud to the flesh; to become aware of school, exams (the very words as unlovely as the sound of chalk shrilling on the blackboard), bread and butter, marriage, sex, compatibility, war, economics, death, and self. What a pathetic blighting of the beauty and reality of childhood. Not to be sentimental, as I sound, but why the hell are we conditioned into the smooth strawberry-and-cream Mother-Goose-world, Alice-in-Wonderland fable, only to be broken on the wheel as we grow older and become aware of ourselves as individuals with a dull responsibility in life? To learn snide and smutty meanings of words you once loved, like “fairy.” —From The Journals of Sylvia Plath

Remember that, for better or worse, you are in control of your physical self and surroundings.

Actions are greater than intentions.

All of us are scared. Scared that we are that person we wouldn't like very much if we meet. Scared we're people who are gonna let our communities down. Scared we're people our parents might think different of if they really knew. Scared of becoming our parents.

People who have lots of power, people who care less about others, people are are more interested in what they want than what is just - sadly enough, these people tend to do pretty well for themselves, because they are more concerned with what works than what's right.

When you watch a news channel, you should be able to discern what is actually news versus what is an opinion-yelling party. The latter make you stupider every time you watch them. So don’t.

What people describe as "authenticity" is an excuse to treat others poorly at least 70 percent of the time

3. What is your biggest adult failure to date? Be honest. Did it involve coconut-flavored rum? It did, didn’t it? Oh, coconut rum.

No one else will remove that spider biding its time in the shower until it can lay eggs in your ears. No friendly stranger will knock on your door to ask if any ketchup has spilled in your fridge and hardened into indelible red paste, then offer to scrape it up.

But now, the good news: Billions and billions of people around the world manage to live in a home without directly killing themselves or others via their irresponsibility, and chances are very good you are one of them.

It is hard to convince people of this, but oatmeal truly is miraculous. It gives you an amazing amount of energy, like cocaine, if cocaine were really good for your digestion and didn’t ruin lives.

Step 93 - Do not RSVP ‘maybe’.

Women you encounter are not pregnant unless they say so or are actually in labor. Pregnant women usually refer to their pregnancies every ten seconds anyway, so it shouldn’t remain a mystery for long.

Have you ever once heard of someone saying, ‘You know, I’m glad I had that three-week fling with my cubicle-mate a few years back, because it’s so great to sit across from him in meetings knowing what his dick looks like.

Knock that shit off. Seriously. If you’re going to share your opinion, say it as though it were a declarative statement. Not a question? That you have? Floating around in your head? And you hope others will agree with? But if they don’t, that’s okay too? Just say it. And if you really feel that unsure about it, then don’t waste that other person’s time with verbal waffling.

Because no one is hot when they’re eighty. But some people will still be internally beautiful, and others will still be assholes. Which do you want?

Being in a real, grown-up relationship means deciding every day to love another person, even though sometimes they will annoy the everlasting shit out of you. Everything needs maintenance. Loving someone is not a one time thing. Something earned once then secured forever. It’s more like a human six-year-old, something delightful but also in need of vigilance and attention lest it fall out of a tree and break its wrist.

These events are the true litmus tests of adulthood, and when you pass through to the other side of one, you will find yourself changed. As my mother would put it, these experiences are an AFGO (another fucking growth opportunity, pronounced aff-go).

Okay. On with the chapter. First things first: proving to your parents that you are, in fact, an adult, and deserve to be treated as such. This does not happen via a big hissy fit that culminates with you screaming, “YOU ARE NOT THE BOSS OF ME ANYMORE!

Language, Reina.” “Yes, I speak five or six. And right now, I wanna speak Curse-ish and Profanity-ese. I’m a grown ass woman and I say and do what I want.