Technically, I suppose, eighteen is the bigger deal, but I
really didn’t think of it that way. Nothing much changed for me, in a practical
way. I could vote, but I didn’t. I had to register for Selective Service, but
there’s no draft. If I got arrested I’d be arrested as an adult, but I didn’t
do anything to get arrested, so I wasn’t worried about it. I started my senior
year of high school and life went on as before.
But now I’m not a teenager anymore. It’s silly, just a
meaningless trick of language, but I’ve been thinking of myself as a teenager
for…obviously seven years, which doesn’t sound like a long time, but it feels
like most of my life.
I went home last weekend to celebrate with my parents and
some of my friends there. We didn’t have a big party, because we couldn’t get
everybody together at the same time, but I went out to eat with my mother and both
siblings one night, and my Dad and my brother and his wife the next night. And
I hung out with some of my old high school friends during the day. It was awkward—it
seems like every time I go home I have less in common with my old friends, even
the Wiccan ones, which is just bizarre. But we had a good time anyway, and it
was really good seeing my family. My brother is a lot older than me and I hadn’t
gotten to see him in a long time.
And I got presents. I usually don’t make a big deal about
presents—I like opening them up, the surprise of the thing, and seeing what my
family and friends got me, but I’m not really into “loot” for its own sake.
Except this year I was more excited about it because I’m basically broke, and
there are things I can’t get for myself. I mean, I sold my car last February,
but that money goes to pay for my room and board fees here. I didn’t take any
out for my own use. I have some money saved up from my job with the landscaping
company when I was in high school, and I don’t need very much—I spend less than
twenty dollars a week, on average, but—my income is zero and I really don’t
want to ask for money from my parents. So I asked for books instead.
Yellow Fly Agaric |
The very thought, “I feel so grown up” is about as childish
as you can get, of course, but I don’t much care. I’m having fun.
I didn’t make a big deal of my birthday on campus—some people
do, even having someone announce their birthday after breakfast, so everyone
can clap and sing Happy Birthday, but I didn’t really feel like it. Basically,
I don’t like a lot of people paying attention to me, not all at once like that.
But I did mention it to Ollie a while back, and so he, Willa, Rick, Joanna, Nora,
Kayla, and Arthur all took me out to dinner in town. I bought a piece of
chocolate cake for dessert and blew out three candles and let everybody take a
bite. I got most of the icing. It was nice.
At dinner, Rick asked me if I’d invited Charlie, since he
wasn’t there. Of course, I hadn’t invited anybody, Ollie invited everybody, and
he isn’t friends with Charlie so he didn’t think of it, but honestly I’m not
sure I would have thought of it, either. Am I friends with Charlie? I don’t
know. He’s harder to get to know than a tree or a forest.
Speaking of Charlie, I’m wondering if he’s just had a
birthday too, or something. He’s got a new book. I saw him sitting on the
Mansion porch the other day, smiling in the sunshine, one sandal on and the
other nowhere in sight, happily reading the beginning of this new book. He saw
me looking at the book, curiously, so he held it up so I could read the title.
[Next Post: Monday, September 9th: Field Trips]
I think we have that book. I know I've seen it before. I've heard that translating the title takes a little thought, because Latin doesn't need a word for "the".
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