SEVENTEEN

SEVENTEEN

Damn it, every time I try to cover something up like this, it never works out. I tried to ignore my birthday: didn't work. I tried to ignore people's birthday wishes: obvious backfire. I tried to sound happy in this blog post: big fail. The only thing left to do is be honest. So here I go.

For weeks, I've been avoiding my birthday like the black plague. But, as Father Time is completely ruthless, my birthday still happened--duh. No amount of denial and begging friends to boycott my birthday could stop my 17th year from barging in, locking up my 16th in a metaphorical metal box, and disregarding it as a mere memory. Nope.

To be really really honest, I don't know WHY anymore. Like, why am I being such a party pooper? Why do I have a personal vendetta against myself, that I would deprive myself the luxury of a good ol' birthday? Wouldn't you like to know.

I guess a lot of this nonsense behavior could be blamed on a lot of things. Mainly, sixteen was such a great year. For those of you who have stuck around that long, I've accomplished a hell of a lot! I've grown, I've learned, I've overcome, and I've even traveled! Sixteen was too good to be true. Call me pathetic for trying to hold on, but that's kinda what it feel's like right now.

Then there's the whole issue with youth. Because in case you haven't noticed, the media is bombing us with images of younger and younger supermodels and what not, and like all previous generations, youth is everything. (OK, so maybe this is all skewed in my mind's eye, because 17 isn't old at all, but you get the point!) Mix all of that with the fact that I can be stubborn, determined, and the biggest pessimist when it boils down to it, and you get a bunch of other B.S reasons such as:

- prime numbers are scary, and 17 is a double prime number!

- 17 is that awkward age between "sweet" and "legal"

- it'll never top last year

- they always butcher my name on the birthday announcements anyway

- being 17 won't change my 7pm curfew (fact)

- cake makes you fat = so no cake

- I'm not getting any taller

As dumb as the latter sounds, perhaps the stupidest thing about this whole ordeal is that I've let all these reasons escalate (in my head) and I let it ruin my entire day. That's right, I spent the entire day grumpy, sulking, pouty and running away from birthday hugs from my favourite people, when I should have been happy-ish. (I would've say 'thankful', but that's pushing it. I'm not sentimental, remember?)

ANYHOW, I'M AN IDIOT.
But at least I've learned my first life lesson as a 17 year-old.



PS.
My hair is not greasy, it's wet. Just in case you think that I've forgotten to shower amidst my teenage life crisis. Poo.

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