21. Wow. Twenty freaking one. Now I can drink legally drink in America. Yay!?! (But let’s be honest, I only go to the States to shop.)
There isn’t the much to turning this age, no real advantages to being 21. It is so much closer to 22, which let’s face it, sounds for some reason a lot older. 21 means I am an adult (well, technically that was 20, but this is just another year of re-enforcing that idea). According to Yahoo Answers, it means that I should be able to make rational and mature decisions; childish thinking should be behind me and my life goals and plans ahead of me.
If this were Christmas and I were Scrooge, I would say “Bah Humbug!” to that. Rational and mature decisions? Last week I was seriously considering dropping out of uni for a bit because I’m fed up with it, while at the same time I was mourning of the sad dis-figuration of my beloved stuffed hedgehog, Hedgey. I can barely decide what I want for dinner most days, let alone what to do this summer, after graduation or for the rest of my life.
Don’t get me wrong, I am so grateful that I have made it to another year and that I get to spend it in Spain with some awesome people and 8 hours of class. But sometimes I feel like that Rizzle Kicks song, When I Was A Youngster:
Back when I was younger,
I wanted to be everything on the planet,
Now that I am older,
It seems the ambition has vanished
Yup. Pretty much sums me up at the start of my 21st year on this planet. Confused, without ambition, lost, older.
Happy Birthday to me.