Being an adult sounded great when I was like, thirteen. I had it all figured out: My best friend Jane and I would move into her uncle's cottage in England. He's a big-time director and owned Beatrix Potter's house. It was going to be amazing. Driving old range rovers around the estate, listening to the Cure and the Clash, and eating (and drinking) like queens. Judging by the fact that I'm living in a tenement here in Brooklyn, and she's living with her mother-in-law in New Jersey, things haven'…