Tomorrow is my birthday.
Tomorrow is my birthday. I'll be 17. Seventeen. Diecisiete.
I don't know why but I've always been enthusiastic about being grown up. Perhaps it was because I wanted to feel independent. Suddenly I'm thinking that it could be because I'm a middle child, but what do I know.
Yes, independence. I don't like to use the word freedom. "In freedom most people find sin."
But 17 is not grown up yet. 21 is. 18 is just the age when you get a small plastic card with all your information and the legal age to drive. For me, 17 is the age I'll graduate; the age I'll travel to study; the age I'll meet new people; the age that will make or break my nearest future.
Anyway, my birthday is tomorrow.
This week has been full of surprise, stress, and whatever else a teenage girl might experience.
Surprise because Donald Trump won the election and I'm positive it'll affect Honduras-if not the entire world-horribly.
Stress because I can't seem to find the time or motivation to do h.w.s or read. READ!
I haven't read a book in like two weeks. I'm so behind I'm worried.
The TES, which I do every Saturday (ugh, I'll have to spend half a day at school on my birthday), is not as worrisome as I thought it would be.
Actually, I'm beginning to stop worrying so much about stuff. Things will happen if they're supposed to happen, right?
Like, should I study engineering? Mom had asked a math question and I was not answering correctly and she was like, "you don't know and you want to be an engineer?" Hurtful, much. In fact, Mom has been hurtful lately, being mad at me for no plausible reason.
I hate teamwork. Hate it. In Lit. we had to act out Act 1 from Macbeth. I was Lady Macbeth. I was also director although nobody recognizes it. I'm always director in every play we make in class. And writer too. I like it. Maybe because I like being boss. But I like acting too. I was Juliet in Romeo and Juliet in 9th grade. I directed the Frozen play in 10th grade. Maybe theatre is for me.
Maybe it can be a hobby. Like reading is. Like writing is. A hobby...
But anyways, the point is I hated how it turned out. We only "rhearsed" properly once. At least I didn' do it so badly. Mr. Carlos even congratulated me.
Yesterday we had dinner at Pizza Hut. Esther's best friend was there with her family and her dad came to chat with my parents in what felt like hours. Then right when we were about to get up to pay, the waitress (Soshill, weird spelling) let it all out. On the ride home I mentioned my obsevation and commented that maybe we look like good listeners.
I would like to think of myself as a good listener. I would also like to have a friend to listen to.
Anyways, tomorrow is my birthday.
I don't know why but I've always been enthusiastic about being grown up. Perhaps it was because I wanted to feel independent. Suddenly I'm thinking that it could be because I'm a middle child, but what do I know.
Yes, independence. I don't like to use the word freedom. "In freedom most people find sin."
But 17 is not grown up yet. 21 is. 18 is just the age when you get a small plastic card with all your information and the legal age to drive. For me, 17 is the age I'll graduate; the age I'll travel to study; the age I'll meet new people; the age that will make or break my nearest future.
Anyway, my birthday is tomorrow.
This week has been full of surprise, stress, and whatever else a teenage girl might experience.
Surprise because Donald Trump won the election and I'm positive it'll affect Honduras-if not the entire world-horribly.
Stress because I can't seem to find the time or motivation to do h.w.s or read. READ!
I haven't read a book in like two weeks. I'm so behind I'm worried.
The TES, which I do every Saturday (ugh, I'll have to spend half a day at school on my birthday), is not as worrisome as I thought it would be.
Actually, I'm beginning to stop worrying so much about stuff. Things will happen if they're supposed to happen, right?
Like, should I study engineering? Mom had asked a math question and I was not answering correctly and she was like, "you don't know and you want to be an engineer?" Hurtful, much. In fact, Mom has been hurtful lately, being mad at me for no plausible reason.
I hate teamwork. Hate it. In Lit. we had to act out Act 1 from Macbeth. I was Lady Macbeth. I was also director although nobody recognizes it. I'm always director in every play we make in class. And writer too. I like it. Maybe because I like being boss. But I like acting too. I was Juliet in Romeo and Juliet in 9th grade. I directed the Frozen play in 10th grade. Maybe theatre is for me.
Maybe it can be a hobby. Like reading is. Like writing is. A hobby...
But anyways, the point is I hated how it turned out. We only "rhearsed" properly once. At least I didn' do it so badly. Mr. Carlos even congratulated me.
Yesterday we had dinner at Pizza Hut. Esther's best friend was there with her family and her dad came to chat with my parents in what felt like hours. Then right when we were about to get up to pay, the waitress (Soshill, weird spelling) let it all out. On the ride home I mentioned my obsevation and commented that maybe we look like good listeners.
I would like to think of myself as a good listener. I would also like to have a friend to listen to.
Anyways, tomorrow is my birthday.