I had larger celebrations when I hit the last legal-limit milestone last year (yay, I'm legal in the grand majority of countries). I'm not officially a Twenty-Something. I got to feel special for a few days and I can't ask for more than that. Oh, and being taken out for lots of yummy food.
With every birthday I don't feel like I get wiser, or smarter, or more capable of running my life. In my mind I'm still a very shy, slightly spotty, awkward 16-year-old. I'm told that this feeling never really goes away.
Someone is bound to realize that I don't know what I'm doing. "What is this kid doing in an architecture firm?" they will exclaim in shock. "She's just pretending to be grown up!"
Do I just keep pretending to know what I'm doing until everyone thinks I am capable? To pull up a tired yet relevant phrase : fake it until you make it.
But rather than focus on where I am as a person in relation to who I was a year ago I'm going to focus on all the fun I had this past weekend. I went to the annual Beerfest and you can guess how that went. My family took me out to a restaurant I love. I received roller blades and Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking volumes I and II. And best of all, I got bouquets of lovely flowers to commemorate the simple fact that I exist on this planet.
I'm not quite ready to stop being strange. In fact, I rather prefer myself that way. Hopefully my new (and yet the same) strangeness that is a year older will continue to amuse you, dear readers.
More on my weekend adventures and why I shouldn't wait to write off-the-cuff posts before going to bed on Thursday. A bientot!
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