Hours to 19

So here it is. The big day in 1 hour. 19. Wow.

Hello, I am Denica. I am 19. Yes, nineteen years old. No, you didnt hear me wrong. I am nineteen.

What happened to being 16, 17, 18? They all went passed their use by date, I suppose.

When I was a little girl, I would do everything in my power to keep my eyes open until 12 midnight before my birthday. As if wanting to start the day a little bit earlier, cheating time I guess. I have this belief that if I dont sleep the day would magically be longer, thus my birthday is prolonged even if just for a little bit.

Why? Maybe because I know that there'll be a cake with a pony icing on that day. Or the mere fact that I am able to wear my best outfit and take pictures in it. Or because I think my birthday is this magical day when flying ponies would come visit with fairies and take away evil potential-killing-Barbies from the world. Only on my birthday, and as weird as it may sounds, it makes me feel like I did something to make the world a better place. A Barbie-less world.

(Dont blame me. Blame my siblings for making me watch those Chuckie movies with them).

Or maybe it's the idea that I'm getting older. That I am no longer 8, or 9. I am now 10. And I had this idea that being 10 is going to be mind blowing with all the new things I am now allowed to do.

Well I am no longer 10 now. I am 19, and a moment of reflection makes me feel lost. 19. A step, a year to 20. Do I deserve it?

I act like I'm bloody 12. I fool around, laughing until my abs hurt watching Spongebob and trying to live everyday like it's my last. But now I'm 19. Call me old fashioned, but something about it makes me feel like I should act more mature. More appropriate. More like I'm 19.

But do I want to?

I know that I should. Or not. Depends.

So in the face of all the uncertainties in the world, I opened a bag of marshmallows, stick some on a stick and move it around above the fire from the gas stove. I then decided to write this while blowing the half burnt marshmallows (for those of you considering what to get me for my birthday, I suggest "Roasting Marshmallows for Dummies").

I have decided to wait until 12 tonight. While savoring my burnt, crispy, tender and sweet marshmallows. Maybe tomorrow will last a little bit longer. Maybe 19 wont be so bad after all. Maybe this year I will change the world. Maybe flying ponies will come visit. Maybe I will act mature. Maybe I will cut back on Spongebob. Or maybe, just maybe, everything will be fine.

Hereby I raise my cup of milk. Cheers, to all the uncertainties in the world.

Chins up. Shoulders back. Ass tight.

I'll see you when I am officially 19.