(Random but slightly related birthday thought: when I turned eleven, I kept checking the mail just in case someone from a magical school was going to send me a letter and take me away to learn how to turn all- okay, most- of my daydreams into reality. Be glad it never worked out. Although you could say that part of my scorn for the Harry Potter series today- besides the fact that as the series went on none of the characters grew or developed and her writing certainly didn't- began with eleven-year-old disappointment.)
Today I am Seventeen. (Note the capital letter. Just because.) For my birthday I have received birthday greetings from my Young Women leaders, two happy birthday songs, one teal (so comfortable I feel like I need to keep checking to make sure I'm not naked) church dress, one RED (for Red Writer) wallet, and (YES!) a dvd copy of The Dark Knight. (I don't care for Harry Potter, but I love Batman. Go figure.) Later there will be brownies and chocolate ice cream.
Life is good. And I actually feel as if I ought to be the age I am; no inner screaming that No, I'm not done being sixteen.
So today I'm going to water my neighbor's garden (or try to; her hose keeps running out of water, so I'll have to go over more than once), and exercise, and then I'm going to watch movies (The Dark Knight!) and eat popcorn and play video games and sit on the living room floor for fun and do absolutely nothing worthwhile.
And I'm going to enjoy it.