Go Shorty...

It's my birthday.

Okay, so it's really tomorrow, but whatever. As far as I'm concerned it's been my birthday all weekend! We had a very spectacular and successful karaoke party on Friday night. Everyone loved it, including yours truly. Which, of course, goes to show that if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself!

So as of 4:07 a.m. tomorrow morning I will be 22 years old. Which means I have officially moved out of the "teenage" stage (though according to Vinnie I will always be 19...). I'm not sure why I have to turn 22 in order to leave the teenage stage, but for some reason it feels that way. I all of a sudden don't feel as young as I used to while telling people that I'm only 21 (perhaps I should leave out the "only," eh?). 21, however, will always be the "party" age, so perhaps I will always associate it with being young and irresponsible.

Granted, I was anything but irresponsible while I was 21. Yeah, I had fun and whatever, but I was not irresponsible. First off, I'm married and desperately in love with my husband, so that rules out getting any STDs (not that I would have anyway, but hear me out for argument's sake). Additionally, I have held a very grown up job as a financial professional for going on two years now. That's terribly responsible of me. I don't have any children (illegitimate or not)--Just a cat who is pampered beyond belief. I'm not hampered by a ton of debt (soon enough I'll be able to say that I'm not hampered by ANY debt!), and my job will pay for up to 90% of my education costs. So, anyway. My point is this: Hooray for me being responsible!

Perhaps I feel so much older now that I'm 22 because my age is finally starting to catch up to my maturity level. Usually it's vice verse, yes? Not in my case. I've always acted more adult than I am, and now I feel as though I'm old enough to be an adult. That makes more sense in my head, but believe me.