20

posted on: May 22, 2009


Hello. My name is Brittany. Sometimes just B. I am twenty. TWENTY.

Just trying it on.

I think twenty means I'm an adult. Or maybe something else means I'm an adult. And maybe I'm just supposed to be one by age twenty. But I think I was terribly adult-ish when I took Trax to Gateway for the first time by myself. I even ate dinner with my best friends and left a tip. Twenty percent probably. I was fourteen. I felt the same again as I drove down the freeway all alone at sixteen and three quarters. And again as I walked at UVSC, high school diploma in hand. And again as I sat on a bare mattress at Hinckley Hall, waiting for a roomate. And again as I said goodbye to my grown-up friends. And again as fajitas sizzled away in my very own skillet in my very own apartment. And again as I fixed my grown-up friendships. And again when I worked 40 hours a week. And again when I chose to earn my dreams.

And again.

And again.

But then, I'm not so sure I know what an adult is. I may or may not be getting there because Peter Pan is still my favorite Disneyland experience. And Disneyland is still my favorite place. I like when my mother hands me a brown sack lunch as I rush to my grown-up job. I like my birthday candles to be pink and Hannah Montana is a rockstar. And I love to start sentences with conjuctions.

So here's to 20, whatever that means and whatever I am. I feel like an awfully inadequate, insane, incredible 20-year old. Here's to 20 pink candles. To new dreams, new grown-up friends, and many more sizzling fajitas.

{photo by S}

4 thought{s}:

  1. Here's to lunch at Kneaders. Here's to speculating about the Afrikan's. Here's to talking about that one Laguna Hills chick (Lauren?). Here's to convincing Andy he deserves that chocolate cream pie. Here's to Kenny Loggins. Here's to looking out the big window on the third floor of the Hinckley (not bell tower) building. Here's to the new Cannon Commons. Here's to that guy Not living on my floor/couch. Here's to Polaroids. Here's to remembering our favorite Jew. Here's to you B. You are great.

    ReplyDelete
  2. HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY DEAR!

    I'm so very proud of you that you made it through turning twenty. legit. I think that you are probably 70% grown up and 30% little princess.

    Also...will you ever get over the fact that I had to clean my room? Really?

    Also...I loved making fajitas. Let's do it again next year.

    Also...I'm your favorite Jew. Thanks.

    Also...HAPPY BIRTHDAY. I wish I could be there. I have a lovely postcard for you as well...so email me your address. Actually I'll just email you right now. get excited.

    slash I'm so so so so jealous about everything that Kurtle just commented. I wish I was there.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I'm turning twenty in about a month too. It's such a weird thing because I don't think I'll ever feel old! Even though I live on my own, go to college, work, etc, I never feel like I'm "old" enough to do certain things. I want to be a kid forever! I guess I have Peter Pan syndrome too..

    ReplyDelete
  4. I definitely do that, too. When in the WORLD are you actually an adult?! I can't figure it out! I'd like to know so I can avoid it as long as possible. I thought getting married was it, but nope! Still don't feel like a grown-up!

    Glad I'm not the only one. :]

    ReplyDelete

She's a piratey soul, full a' vinegar and glitter.

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