(no subject)
I guess I should have updated Saturday, but I was kind of busy eating more junk food than any human being ever should with my roommates.
So... I'm eighteen!
It's funny. Every birthday before, it was kind of just another year, one age like any other age. I feel kind of odd, this year. I listen to the radio and can actually call in to win those free tickets. I can sign papers without faxing them home for cosigners. I can get a credit card, I don't have to search for a permission slip to donate blood at the Wilk...
I dunno, I just have this weird feeling that, if someone asked me how old I was, I'd give them the wrong number.
Oh, and on another note, did I ever mention how much I ADORE skiing? Dad and I went twice while he was up here. The first time, we just used the rope tow while he taught me how to do it, and I came home with ridiculously sore arms. Then we went up a couple of days later for the twilight hours and had a BLAST. I fell down a couple of times, mostly from losing speed (doobedoobedoo... skiing along... oh! guy going really fast crossing my path! Must slow down! slow... slow... ack, too slow! *plop*), but by our fifth and last run we got up to the intermediate run and I went swooping down it without a single fall.
Except for getting off the lift. I did it fine the first four times, then we went up to the steeper one. You know the cartoon thing where people go down in a windmill of arms and skiis? Yeah. That was me.
Oh, also? Finals start on Friday. Guess who has already completed absolutely everything but the actual tests? I have nothing to do but pack and half-heartedly look over Spanish.
Of course, as soon as I realized that this evening, I discovered that I hate an empty to-do list. I am now bored out of my mind.
So... I'm eighteen!
It's funny. Every birthday before, it was kind of just another year, one age like any other age. I feel kind of odd, this year. I listen to the radio and can actually call in to win those free tickets. I can sign papers without faxing them home for cosigners. I can get a credit card, I don't have to search for a permission slip to donate blood at the Wilk...
I dunno, I just have this weird feeling that, if someone asked me how old I was, I'd give them the wrong number.
Oh, and on another note, did I ever mention how much I ADORE skiing? Dad and I went twice while he was up here. The first time, we just used the rope tow while he taught me how to do it, and I came home with ridiculously sore arms. Then we went up a couple of days later for the twilight hours and had a BLAST. I fell down a couple of times, mostly from losing speed (doobedoobedoo... skiing along... oh! guy going really fast crossing my path! Must slow down! slow... slow... ack, too slow! *plop*), but by our fifth and last run we got up to the intermediate run and I went swooping down it without a single fall.
Except for getting off the lift. I did it fine the first four times, then we went up to the steeper one. You know the cartoon thing where people go down in a windmill of arms and skiis? Yeah. That was me.
Oh, also? Finals start on Friday. Guess who has already completed absolutely everything but the actual tests? I have nothing to do but pack and half-heartedly look over Spanish.
Of course, as soon as I realized that this evening, I discovered that I hate an empty to-do list. I am now bored out of my mind.