Note: In response to Allison’s most recent post, I freaking love Olive Garden and would eat there till the day I die, spending the day alone with her family (because she invited me to her house then promptly left to go to a concert with her other friends) was one of the best days I’ve ever had, and I too hate our friendship but continue it because I don’t want to break our 221-day Snapchat streak.
I turned seventeen on Friday.
It was quite surprising to see how many people were legitimately surprised that I was only turning seventeen and not eighteen. I had to go through the “wait?? what?? but I thought you were older!!” conversation at least five times in the past two weeks and I don’t even think some people have fully comprehended it yet. That’s right folks, your favorite VPSA senior is actually only seventeen.
Much like the past several years of my life, my birthday went according to tradition. I went to Disneyland, rode rides, ate food, and complained about the absurd amount of walking. We took pictures in the same spots, rode the same rides, ate at the same places, and watched the same shows. After seventeen years and twenty-something trips to Disneyland, everything seemed so heartwarmingly familiar.
After a whole day of traditions, I came home to my two rather new best friends who insisted on keeping me up and asking me about how my birthday went and telling me about all the libraries they’ve visited in the past six months. The amount of times people mentioned the word “camels” to me was both heartwarming and horrifying and the ratio of camel-related gifts to normal gifts was worrisome (I’m looking at you, camel-shaped cookie cutter), but after years of traditions it’s nice to have something new.
But if there’s one thing I’m thankful for,
it’s that it’s not 2009 anymore.
Apparently turning seventeen has impaired my ability to write posts of substance about anything so I apologize about my incomprehensible paragraph structures and hope this whole writer’s block will blow over soon.