Wednesday, November 7, 2007

untitled.

I will be 17 years old in two days.

I'm excited, don't get me wrong; I love my birthday, but this year it really got me thinking about the significance of years.

We spend the first 20 years of our lives wishing we were older, then the rest of our lives wishing we were younger. So far, for me, the only importance a birthday has is that it indicates more possibilities, more responsibilities, more that I can do. At 12, I got to paint my nails. At 14, I was allowed to wear makeup.

This birthday means that I can legally buy tickets to an R-rated movie. Woo. I can't enjoy it, because I know what next year means, and 17 just does not measure up. At 18 I can vote. I can buy cigarettes. I can legally separate myself as an independent entity from my family. I can enter television contests. I can go to clubs. I am, in the sense of the law, an adult.

And then what? Then I spend 3 years waiting for 21, when I can legally buy and consume alcohol.

And then what? I spend years longing for 17, when my only worries were homework and stupid boys and which R-rated movie to waste my money on.

Why don't we love our birthdays for what they are? Why not celebrate with the mindset that we have learned and grown and become wiser for a whole year more? and thank God for that?

1 comment:

mystical137 said...

i love birthdays. lol. they're marvelous. you get presents, and pictures[although not always flattering, but i digress] are taken. plus, there's cake. :D mmm, cake! lol

but yeah, we as a society always want to be something we're not. we want to be older, younger, slimmer, taller, whatever! it's ridic. but c'est la vie!

happy early bday! enjoy the cds. love youuuu! *muah*