Growing up or something


Hello, happy new year and happy birthday to me. Another year has come and gone in the blink of an eye. Which is literally the speed at which my life is moving.

I’m 24. 24? I don’t feel 24. I don’t act 24. And I still look like a 16 year-old boy. In fact, it’s amazing I’m a full-functioning, almost fully self-sufficient human being. I feel like I just graduated college last week and I’m still trying to figure out what I want out of life.

I know 24 isn’t old, but when I say my age out loud, it doesn’t sound real. Is this what it’s like to grow up? Every year our birthdays add another wrinkle to our face and that number should determine how we act and feel? It’s no secret I embrace my inner child and I know I’ll have to subdue my juvenile tendencies in order to blend in with society. I mean, maybe.

Can’t a girl still get a youthful jubilant thrill out of Christmas morning, baking cookies, carving pumpkins and listening to today’s pop music? Is it really so bad to indulge in things that bring you back to your childhood? A time when you lived in a bubble of euphoria? Sometimes I wish people stopped trying to act their age and stopped trying to grow up so fast. Life’s too short to act your age.

Don’t tell my mom I wrote this. She’ll make the waiters sing happy birthday while I wear a paper hat.


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