I'm officially an adult, now that I'm 18.
People ask me "Does it feel different to be 18?"
Here follow two options:
Option No.1: I go all profound and pensive, putting my hand to my chin and stroking my imaginary beard and in a low and thoughtful voice, I reply, "Deep inside, there has been a change, concealed from the outside; a stirring, like the feeling a caterpillar experiences before it emerges as a butterfly and spreads its wings to fly away."
Option No. 2: I shrug and say "Meh."
I choose No. 2 so people don't run away from me.
So on Friday, Ish and I were thrown a surprise birthday party by the bestest human on the planet, Clara.
I'd had suspicions for a few days...
1) I was going to do something small on Friday, but Dad was violently against it. Like, really really against it, to the point where he was aggressively shouting at me, which weirded me out a bit.
2) Priya acted really oddly and when I moaned to her about how I didn't know what to do for my birthday, she had a really strange expression on her face, as if the whole time she was suppressing a smile or a fart or something.
3) Some people avoided me, or ignored my moaning about what I should do for my birthday.
4) I planned something on Saturday and invited some people. Carrot says: "Oh, I'm not sure I should go to two parties in a row..."
5) I voiced my suspicions to Dad and Doug, and they got a bit angry/miffed/shocked.
I should be a detective.
But ah... It was so awesome! There was delicious food and I had a "Pink Panther" mocktail that had strawberries and cream in it. Ahh... Then we went bowling and we split into two teams. Needless to say, Team Ali, a.k.a. Team Awesome, won by nearly 100 points. I got a strike and two spares (flukes) and there was a lot of victory dancing (i.e. dad-dancing in disguise).
And Clara had been behind all this the whole time! I am indebted to her. I'm awful at expressing myself to people face to face; I gave her an awkward hug and mumbled something like: "Uh... Thanks...Um... So... Grateful... Yeah... Thanks.... Er... Awesome..." but I think she got what I meant.
I got back home at about ten to midnight, and I spent the last ten minutes of my childhood just sitting in my room alone and feeling melancholy and worried about how I'd have to grow up and have responsibilities and that I wasn't Peter Pan and couldn't stay a child forever. I've talked about Peter Pan in a previous post. He's weird, like an elderly child or something. What.
I've always associated grown ups with the clacking sound high heels make on the pavement, with white, starched shirts with cufflinks, with perfume and cologne, with that sense of security - I'd always thought that when I became an adult, I'd be sure of myself and have everything under control, but now that I'm here, I've realised I don't. I have no idea about anything. I don't even own a pair of high heels, but that's got nothing to do with it.
Anyhoo. This is a long post, so I shan't keep you much longer.
I'm just going to leave you with a funny little something from a birthday card I'd read years ago:
"Birthdays are good for you. The more you have, the longer you live."