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I was driving to sing at a wedding in my cute little champagne-colored car (I named it Bubbles- she purrs like a kitten... an epileptic kitten) and it hit me.

I'm nineteen. I can drive. I voted in the last election (for all the winners- woo me!), my parents trusted me alone in the house for the weekend, I have a job, I'm making a bunch of my own decisions. It's pretty cool.

My older brother is getting married in January. I'm going to have an in-law. And in a couple years, a niece or nephew. Good lord.

You know how you fantasize about who you'll be when you're five? I was going to publish a book before highschool, graduate college at the ripe old age of 16, get married, and start my rock band. I'd have a boyfriend, a fast car, wear high heels and makeup, and have a cat. Somehow the cat counted for as much as the boyfriend.

I'm allergic to cats now, and my car is anything but fast, and I'm going through school at the usual rate (maybe a tidge faster than the current standard... I may graduate in just 4 years since I'll be a junior by Christmas... don't even ask me to explain that whole mess, the requirements for teacher certification are insane) and... don't even talk about a boyfriend, but someday. :o�

It's a bit odd. The other day when I announced my decision to do my second year at college without a car once again, since I didn't need to go out that often and I had vehicular friends and city bussing in SA, my dad said it showed I was making adult decisions. He said he was proud. It felt pretty cool.

Very weird, spending the entirety of your life talking about what you'll do when you grow up, and then suddenly looking around and realizing you have.

P.S.- anyone over 21 reading this is laughing their patootie off at me, but I don't care. :) I am grown up, dangit.

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