Well, it’s my birthday again. My 14th year of living. But the strange thing is, I don’t feel any different from yesterday: no new knowledge, no sudden idea… nothing. Maybe I now get the saying “age is just a number.” In the past, I would be excited to open presents and such (and I’m still looking forward to them! After I finish this post, the ceremony will begin) and so I would get the illusion I was a big girl, or at least a bigger girl than before. Now I’m dreading the moment when I will have to go to college, get a job, earn money: basically have responsibilities.
I remember last year I posted about my birthday, and I was so excited to be 13. I was so young that time… Wait! I’m talking like I’m an old lady! What’s going on? This is probably to do with two reasons: 1) the book I’m reading now is Finding Violet Park by Jenny Valentine, something about a dead old lady and 2) my dad is playing some sort of sad violin sonata at full volume. Well… all right then…
I’m very happy that there’s another celebration. My mom made a really good dinner for me (might post up the recipe soon, look out!) and it’s been a happy day. Also, my grandma came over to celebrate so its been great. Happy happy happy!