27 December 2010

sure signs of aging.

Ok, I mean, I'm an immature 21 year old in lots of ways.
I still have a soft spot in my heart for all stuffed animals, and things pink catch my eye. I'm still not above eating soup for breakfast or even laffy taffys (both of which is something that my 10-15 year old self did, and would have continued to do if i didnt wake up exactly 45 minutes before my behind needed to be in a desk chair). I watch cartoons and I dread taking showers.
And yet,

I am old.

Christmas sure showed me.

Instead of holding a grudge against my dad until well past valentines day for making our family do service on christmas eve, I rather enjoyed myself. For the second year in a row, I didnt end up laying in my bed hours after presents were open being emo about what I didnt recieve. ( I thought last year was a fluke because I was getting married days later.) This year, being with family was a huge priority, and at one point I even turned to Alan and told him how happy I was (am). Christmas break is good for the soul. Someone remind me of this post when I get back on here and cry big, black, mascara-ie tears about school. Maybe I can carry some Christmas 2010 with me for the next year and be a big jolly bowl full of jelly.

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