It’s official. I’m 18. You know, like, legal 18. I-can-buy-lottery-tickets-and-cigarettes-and-porn 18. I don’t feel very 18. I feel significantly not 18. But, it’s always like that, I never feel a year older on my birthday. But who actually does? Because, really, you are only a day older than you were yesterday. And that’s not big news, that happens everyday. You’re always getting older. Your birthday is just a marker so you can remember how much you are aging. So, it’s hard for me to get too excited for my birthday (that, and I also have a Peter Pan complex).
But, I had a good birthday. Thanks to my friends. (Friends are awesome). Joe persisted in giving me a party. It was small, but very loud and very fun.
Oh, and the presents! Everyone was required to buy a gift (no cash or gift cards) and it had to be under $7. It was awesome. I got… Kit-Kats, a pirate launcher, a 1990 Remember When book, a map, quarter machine jewelry, real jewelry, friendship socks, and many awesome cards both small and large. It sounds silly, but I love it all.
Ok, I feel very not coherent right now. I’m too tired. So. Bye.