Cousin Lucy’s Excessive Wisdom: How To Be A Mature Adult

Did you ever see that Adventure Time episode where they meet the Demon Cat, and he’s like “I have approximate knowledge of many things”? That sentiment is key to being a mature adult, knowing a bit about a lot of things. More importantly, it’s about looking knowledgeable about everything, from when to get your car serviced to not buying useless shit when you go to Ikea. I am in no means myself a mature adult, but sometimes I sure look it. Just ask ya mum. But I like to think I can present a clever shroud of normalcy and maturity to those that don’t know me very well, and there are a few key parts of how to be a mature adult. Read on and grow.

1. Wine.

Mature, classy people love wine. This is simply a fact. When I was a small child, I remember demanding a sip of this magical red drink my mum and dad frothed over so much at dinner every night. Six year old me promptly decided it was the most disgusting shit since brussell sprouts and would rather go neck some raspberry cough syrup. I’m sure you have a similar story – but my question is, where did it all change? When do we all suddenly decide hey, actually, wine is okay and I’m going to spend $26 on a bottle from the Barossa Valley? Is it when our souls die? Are we just lying to ourselves?


Anyway, this is getting a bit too philosophical. The point is, whether you like wine or not, it’s super impressive and cool to drink it and even more important to sound like you know what you’re talking about. Try and remember all the different types of wine or you’ll be exposed as the fraudulent adult that you are. There’s whites; like chardonnay, reisling, pinot gris, moscato and sauvignon blanc. There’s the rosé, which is, like, half way between a red and a white, you serve that shit chilled. And then the reds where the trick is to not pronounce the last letter: merlot, cabernet sauvignon (I thought it was ‘cabinet savingon’ for years because you were supposed to keep it in a cabinet) and pinot noir. Of course, how can we forget Hannibal Lecter’s drink of choice chianti, that’s a selling point right there. There’s probably a bunch more but I don’t remember or that I’m too uncultured to care about.

Wine drinking also means using fancy words like palette (I think that means how it tastes when you let it sit in your mouth for a while before swallowing it), bouquet (how it smells when you swish it around fancily in your glass). Others include body, legs, nose blah blah blah. Are we drinking a drink or a person? Next level Mature Adult Wine Connoisseur is knowing all the types of food that these wines go with. At this point if someone knows this shit I abandon my mature adult ruse and tell them that they’re no longer invited to my birthday party.


To be honest, wine drinking is literally insane, just a bunch of bullshit. But fancy, expensive bullshit that gets you drunk! So enjoy the nose on that oaky chardonnay, my friend.

2. Taxes.

As an ‘adult’, I receive a lot of paperwork in the mail and I often have no idea what it’s about. I put it all in an organised folder with different sections for “home” “investments” “medical” and of course, “taxes”. This makes me feel very organised and mature when in actual fact I could not tell them apart from pages of the Qu’ran written in Swedish, which I’m assured is a good read.


Now, I take this folder to my nice accountant every year and she makes it somehow into my tax, but to really be mature and organised it’s important to know how to do your taxes yourself. Additionally, knowledge of how these things work (finances) often leads to an interest in things like the stock market, world news and the government. When you find yourself perusing pages of the newspaper or logging on to the Australian Financial Review, which realsies adults call the ‘Fin Review’ reading up on the latest from ol’ Abbott or caring about how the Dow Jones Industrial Average did on Monday; you’ll know you’re truly on your way to being a real adult. Congratulations, you beautiful taxpayer.

3. Coffee.

Adults love coffee. Like wine, it’s a beverage which allows the consumer to feel a bit fancy and cool while drinking it, has lots of different uninteresting types and ways to make it, and lets you become a snob when spending a shitload of money on an imported type from Guam. Nothing says ‘mature’ more than a business person rushing off to their next meeting with a takeaway coffee cup in hand, or a meeting of friends with a few lattes or short blacks between them. I actually don’t like coffee and prefer energy drinks, but I expect one day when I become a mature adult I will grow to love it. It’s something I’m still working on, okay?


Anyway, it’s also important when you’re an adult to let people know that you love coffee and you drink it all the time. When you see your colleagues at work in the morning, make sure you complain about not having had a coffee yet. Make loud and uncomfortable moaning noises after your first sip. Basically the way I see it is coffee is the crack for boring mature people that don’t break the law. If you live in a 30km radius of a capital city, then I’m sorry but you’ll have to at least pretend to drink it. Outside that zone and nobody has any real hopes for you as you’re probably making out with your cousin right now.


Sure, I may technically be an adult but I am about as far from mature as it is possible to be. I am basically a big child that attempts to eat proper food sometimes and is allowed to drink alcohol. I figure that the real key to being an adult is to realise that its all a bunch of lies, and we all do it. I attempt to be mature, really – I go to the gym sometimes, I clean my house, I pay my bills, but then I also got really drunk yesterday, went to an Indian restaurant, woke up at 5am, threw up in my laundry sink and then cried.

This is why the key is tricking people into thinking you’re a mature adult. Everyone’s faking it really, and I figure for a while it’s all about faking it till you’re making it. Making a fresh brew of coffee in your kitchen, making breakfast on your Datïd stovetop from Ikea, perusing the Fin Review and discussing the goings on in the country’s politics with yourself.

You’re looking old already! Seriously, there’s a cream for that.

Love, Lucy.



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