12 August 2009

On Being Eighteen

You kind of get friendly with an age. I remember wanting to be thirteen pretty badly, but since then birthdays have come with a feeling of, 'Oh, I have to say goodbye to this age now?' It got comfy to say 'fourteen' and then 'fifteen' and then 'sixteen' and then 'seventeen' and then - well, today someone at work asked me how old I was and I said, "Uhh...I'm going to be eighteen." In the weeks leading up to August 13, my age goes from being seventeen to 'almost eighteen'. Which helps the transition, I guess.

Seventeen is kind of different, though. It feels like a pretty mature age without being an adult age.

Not that there aren't perks to being eighteen. I can vote (!) and travel alone without being an 'unaccompanied minor' and drink (oh boy the excitement. [/sarcasm]) and probably other things I forget, including pay for a lot more than I did when I was seventeen. That's on top of the less material things. I'm independent, I'm an adult, and the next eight hours are my last legal childhood hours ever, which makes me sad until I smack myself for being sad that my birthday is tomorrow.

I could always say that the hours after those eight will be my first adulthood hours.

Yeah. I'm growing up.


(I needed to add an awesome quote.)
"We're all terrified of you, in reality. It's like being friends with an undomesticated cougar and sitting with your back to it."

No comments: