The Countdown Begins!

SO, I might have told a slight white lie.

I am not actually twenty-one.

In-fact, I turn twenty-one tomorrow. 

The number '21' has been my lucky number since I can remember. I distinctly recall informing my kindergarten 'crew' that I would be living alone, married and all grown up by the time I turned twenty-one. I also recall telling them that I would live in a castle and be a princess, so i might have been a bit of a dreamer but the foundation was there! 

I am not discouraged in the slightest by the fact that my dreams didn't fold out in-front of me like I hoped they would oh so long ago. Married? I was always an ambitious child. Not only am I far away from the thought of wedlock, let alone meeting my husband-to-be, I am still living at home, attending University and not 'grown-up' in the least. Okay, so I might be classified as an adult in all major areas of the globe come midnight, but what is it to be an adult anyway? Must i relinquish my love for puddle jumping in my bright, pink Hunter wellington boots? The immature giggle at all that is inappropriate? If so, I will stay the way I am please. 

Bring on the responsibility. I don't expect being an adult to be a breeze. Just like I don't expect life, no matter how old you are, to be a breeze. Life is windy. Windy, rainy, sunny, snowy...a bloody weather extravaganza if you ask me! I make no promises that I shall wake up tomorrow and be filled with a sudden sense of maturity. Please don't tell me that being an 'adult' is going to be boring. I hate boring. I despise boring. Twenty-one or not, my life is going to be far from boring. I shall make mistakes, complain, laugh and chuck a tantrum once in a while. Growing up is over-rated. Remember when you were young and couldn't wait to hit double-digits? Yikes! I can remember getting rather upset with my dad as he annually informed me that he would like to place bricks on my head to stop me from growing. Joke was on me though! Welcome to the life of the shortest of four, despite being the second oldest. 

And so it begins.

The belief that age is 'simply a number.'

21 with the heart of a child. 

Perfect way to be, don't you think?