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12:00 a.m.
2002-01-06
My Nineteenth Epiphany
Holy shit, I can't believe how weird this is. I clicked on the "add an entry" thing just as it changed to midnight. It's January 6, 2002.
I am nineteen years old.
I shouldn't feel old, but I kind of do. Eighteen is such a big year for people--that whole adult thing--and already, one year has gone by, and I'm moreso of an adult. That made absolutely no bloody sense. But I just can't explain how I feel right now about this whole nineteen thing. I guess I should just be happy and all that normal birthday junk, but I don't know. I get to spend my birthday in church, and then at breakfast, which is pretty much the only birthday-y thing I'm doing today. In the early afternoon, I need to make sure I have everything I need for moving back to Evanston, and then around four or five, I pick up Jim and we do the actual move to Evanston, making a brief stop at wherever Sarah is to bring her my Anthro books (it cracks me up that she's taking the same course as I just did--and it bugs me because she's going to do a zillion times better than I did), and then driving him back to Oak Lawn and then myself back up to Evanston again. There, I will fret over what to wear to school, set my room back up again, and try to get to bed early so I can start the quarter off right.
Go me.
No one is home right now. I have no idea why. I came home early, because Jim wanted to go to a speech party, and, although I probably could have gone with, I didn't, and went home instead. That was about 8:30. Where the hell is everyone? A phone call would be nice, damn it!
Oh, God, I sound old.
One of the things I love most about my birthday is that it's the Feast of the Epiphany, thus ending the Christmas season in the church. We sing a special alleluia, and the Christmas Gloria for the last time, and it's just generally pretty. I just hope Father Gerry isn't at the 9:00 AM mass tomorrow--he, unfortunately, knows it's my birthday, and will probably make a point of announcing it. Our priests are weird that way. I'll just die if he does anything of the sort.
No, I won't. I know I love attention! ::grins:: I have issues, yes. At least I admit to it.
Well, enough out of me. To sleep I must go.
Quote for the (special) Day: "May I offer you a chair?" "Sure. May I offer you a fish?" --Mr. Crocker, Cosmo, "The Fairly Oddparents"