Yesterday was my 19th birthday. It was wonderful. I got Repo! The Genetic Opera from my mama, and the promise of books in the mail. Mark gave me three beautiful flowers that look and smell like sunshine, and a large delicious piece of chocolate cake with candles in the shape of a "1" and a "9". He lit them, I blew them out, and couldn't stop smiling. Everyone who saw or I told thought it was really sweet. I've decided that Mark is wonderful! haha! It really was a good birthday despite the fact that I didn't get much time to myself. It's all okay. Mama bought me food and stuffs from the coffee shop. I went in and they all yelled happy birthday, and told me my mom would pay for anything I got while I was there when she came in later that afternoon. It was the coolest thing! So that was super cool. Also I didn't have to deal with dad, which was also nice.
It never feels any different being technically a year older. In my English class we read an essay that said you're never just 19 or 12 or any other age, but all of the years that preceded this one. So not only am I 19, but also 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, and 1. I believe this essay was by an author that I'm not all so fond of, but she had a point. We don't always "act" our given number age, but sometimes all those before it. Makes sense. At least I think so.
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