I Miss You. I'm going back home to the west coast.
I can’t believe I’ll soon be nineteen.
That’s whacked.
There seems to be nothing special about being nineteen, except perhaps being able to by cigarettes in New York and New Jersey. It’s just the age of foreboding adult-hood, the end of an era or at least the end of a decade.
I’m not that excited for my Birthday though mainly because I won’t be back home to celebrate it, and also it’s just another birthday - and it’s on a Monday, and that’s pretty lame.
This weekend though I’m going out for a “few” drinks, with some kids & on Sunday dinner with my Mom & Co. Then Monday I won’t really be with anybody, which is my actual birthday, so yeah, nothing to special, really. And I’m not being all emo-sigh-kid about it, I don’t really mind.