I still feel like a teenage dirtbag, honestly. It’s the same old me. I guess I’m finally realizing that age is just a number fools take seriously- but then again, we never know what I might feel when I turn 40 or so. It’s different, too. The way I handle things nowadays, it’s strange. I feel mature yet oddly speaking, maturity does not fit me. When I see myself as a grown up lady- imagine me as a prim and proper woman, I would instantly choke you. It isn’t quite a great scene seeing me as a grown up, knowing I still have a lot of flaws to work on. But nonetheless, I still have a lot of years ahead of me to practice my ‘adulthood’.
So, for people who knows me personally for a long time, they’d probably understand why I’d hide under my sheets and sleep the whole day and probably watch the marathon of my fave series (Big Bang Theory, heck yeah!) during my birth day. I’m not a big fan of celebrating my birthday. I don’t like surprises. I don’t like it and really, people who post and greet me on every social networking sites gives me goose bumps. I hate the attention. It was June 12th when my officemates realized that I turned 21st two weeks ago. And they surprised me. Yep, candles and cupcakes and hurrahs and funny faces and happy birthday greetings. They broke my rule and I’m happy about it. No regrets. x
And one last thing, the person I’ve been dreaming of confessed his “likeness” on me. God, I was trembling but I kept my composure and smiled. It was cute, really. Ah, that moment was imprinted in my mind.