Just Chillin', Age

Today was a day for chilling. Nice day, very pretty. A little cool, but a vast improvement from the frigid winter days- I think spring is coming (yay). The snow is melting, only a few stray patches left lingering in the protection of the shadow my house provides. They will be exterminated soon. At least I hope.

I love sitting on the porch. Just to get that out there- I do I do I do. Sometimes I bring my music with me, but its even better just to listen to the sounds of my neighborhood. Kids playing up the street, the neighbor boy practicing lacrosse and failing, the girl across the street gingerly backing the car out of the driveway for her first time driving, the dogs barking at each other... It's just nice, and I can't imagine a childhood without a neighborhood to live it in.

My aunt and uncle came out for a visit today as well. They stayed for a couple of hours and just left a couple of minutes ago. That was nice, I don't see them often. Anyways, it was a nice day all around.

Part two: age. I despise turning older. Birthdays I'm okay with, but having to acknowledge that your one year older is excruciating to me. Even though I'm young, I still don't like it, and I shall impart on you the history of my not-wanting-to-turn-older. *ahem* The first age I didn't want to have was my 6th. I liked being five, and I was afraid to go to full-time school. It was scary, and I barely got the idea that I wouldn't be able to eat lunch with my dad before going off to school anymore (I had afternoon kindergarten). Terrifying, but I loved the cake and the clown, Mr. Twisty. (I don't remember if I had a clown at my birthday party, but it's a pretty good chance.) Second was ten. The double-digit thing is a pretty big jump, there. *tear* Then came thirteen- teenager. I had heard stories about how bad teenagers were, and I didn't want to turn into some monster like people talked about. When people would ask my mom how old i was going to be, they'd hear "thirteen" and say "I'm so sorry." I was like- what the hell is going to happen to me?! Scary thing. Then sixteen. I did not want to turn 16. Fifteen was perfect for the moment- in between ten and twenty - like some song has in its lyrics. I was proud that I was just as close to my childhood as to adulthood (favoring the child side, obviously). This, so far, is my history of age-hating, though I don't really like turning anything- these were the worst (so far).

SO my birthday is tomorrow... eek! I don't wanna! I will accept the presents, family, parties, and cake, but please, I JUST started saying 16 when people ask how old I am as opposed to 15. Don't change it now that I've got it!

Damn.

What I want... really, really badly

Okay, so I've got two major wishes here. And I'll take either one gladly.

First up- being a kid again. I know- I'm not quite an old one, or even middle aged (or even close to it), but I want to be five again all the same. How awesome is the age of five? When school was fun, there was a new letter and song about that letter added to the alphabet string every week, when it was exciting to be able to read a few simple sentences, when kindergarten was a half day and you didn't want to leave school. Kickball games in the neighborhood every other night, trading off with ghost in a graveyard and a weekly man-hunt game. When parents would have their own "summoning call" to make their kids come running home for a snack and bedtime. When the doorbell ringing always meant that my two best friends were here to ask me if I wanted to play. *sigh*

I started to lose math when they started using letters instead of numbers, I dread going to school and wish to leave early if only (if ONLY) I could get up the nerve to skip out, and books that I want to read versus dry old English class books written by dead white guys are a rare treat. The doorbell only rings when the army send out a guy to ask my older brother if he would please take a look at the pamphlet about the Armed Forces or whatever, those two best friends are people I barely even see, much less talk to. I just took the SATs and am looking at colleges I know I won't go to unless I go to, I take tests, prognostics, REGENTS, APs in May, finals, midterms, DBQs, and the NMSQT. It's tiring. Not that life is all bad now (certainly not) but I don't want to get any older.

I mean, if I'm a good girl in life and I go to heaven, I will be five and in my neighborhood again. That is, if I can place an order like that. I don't know how it'll work, but if God can fix me up with that, I would be tha happiest (angel?) in heaven.

Second on my list (though it should be first, as it is just a smidge more likely than the first), is love. I want to fall in love so much, and I know that sounds school-girlish (I am) and naive and innocent (again, I am) and all that- but I do. Yes, I've gotten the memo that it hurts a hell of a lot sometimes, and that it doesn't always work out the way people plan it to... "It is far better to love and lose than never to love at all." Isn't that a famous quote? And certainly I should imagine that famous quotes are grounded with fact and expirience, no? I want to learn about love, for good or for ill. I can only imagine what I could write with such first hand knowledge. But I'm young yet, so I also understand that I'm not ready for what I'm asking here.

What brought this peice to my list was the book I finished last night. I live for the love scenes- when they awkwardly and haltingly confess their feelings for each other, blushing and stuttering. Sometimes they just straight out dive in for a kiss when he/she isn't expecting it. Ah, it's so nice. So are happily ever afters. And I will immediatly stop talking about this because I just re-read what I've been typing and I have realized how stupid and pathetic I sound... damn.

Anyways, these are my two wishes. The first wish is the one that I want more (at this moment in time at least). Think about it- would you like to be five again? You already know my answer is an overly loud and enthusiastic YEEEEEEEES!

Not My Best Idea

Reading Edgar Allan Poe right before I go to bed? Yeah- not my smartest move, I'll admit. The Fall of the House of Usher, I'm sure, my teacher will assure me is one of the best short stories ever written- but seriously? I don't even want to talk about what it had in it, but I will assure you all of it is 100% dark, 100% creepy, and 50% jibberish. Which, I guess, is what makes it a good short story. Look at it- it has 250% to it. I do not wish to turn the lights off and crawl into bed at this hour after reading Poe. To think I was afraid of the dark before? Pshaw! Poe and midnight darkness just do not mix in my book, and I shall never try to cram any english assignment of this sort before I go to bed ever again, because now I am too jumpy to sleep/ be in the dark/ let my mind wander too far to really think about the damned book.

*deep breath*

Perhaps I will have to do some more homework to scrub the sticky remains of Poe off of my mind? Ah, well- it's really late now, so I think I will risk going to bed.

*panic attack*