My Birthday: A Sign of my Rising Maturity Level

It was my birthday last week, and I turned TWENTY!!!! The magical age of not-yet-drinking but already-voting and, most importantly, finally-done-with-being-a-teenager. Has anyone ever in the history of the English language used the word "teenager" in a positive sense? Nope. That's because it is actually physically impossible. If you try, you literally spontaneously combust.

I would like to list some things about being a teenager in defense of my former people:

1. Teenagers are flexible-- old people often complain about how things move too quickly, they can't keep up with all this new technology, etc. Well, somebody has to. Guess who that group is?

2. Adults-- you try going to school every day, from eight till three, and then sports afterwards, then homework. Granted, you've already done that. Try it again now. See how easy it is. 

2. a) Try going to school every day during the workweek without being able to do adult things, like driving or drinking legally or eating whatever you want for lunch.

2. b) And don't say "I wish someone would make my lunch for me every day like my parents used to." Remember, you're saying this with an adult perspective. You haven't yet come to understand that this could be seen as a luxury, and this understanding only comes with age, and it only comes too late. Just like every other person of any age in the world, you only want what you don't have: in the case of a teenager, it's freedom to do what you want. In the case of an adult, it's freedom to have other people do things for you. 

3. Teenagers tend to have a more idealistic approach to the world. That is a very good thing, because you need idealists to get anywhere. Without having people that actually think everything can and will and should get better one day, nothing would ever happen.

4. You need teenagers to get adults. Whatever a teenager goes through will be what he/she takes into his/her adult life. 

Well, I am done with all that now, but I'm still halfway through my college life and sans full-time job. I have no idea what I will do when I graduate from college, although I hope it's something English-y. I got several birthday cards congratulating me on another step towards maturity. That was scarier than anything. I really hope I'm not supposed to be mature. I mean, there's a time and a place for everything. But while hanging out with some friends over the past weekend, we were cutting up a chicken and giggling a little about the fact that we got a each chicken "breast." Heehee. Funny. We r 10 yrs old.

Not that I would be giggling about that if I was cutting up a chicken at work, or in a class. I wouldn't crack a smile. The thought wouldn't even cross my mind (I would probably be wondering why I am cutting up a chicken in work or in class). If being mature is knowing how to act in different situations, then I am pretty okay at that. Even if I'm not great at all situations, I can adapt to my surroundings, and talk to people in the manner that they seem to prefer of me. I prefer to blend in when I am somewhere unfamiliar. But, if being mature is acting like a portrait adult at all times and places, then I am not very good at that. I am reluctant to give up my sparkly black converse shoes with rainbow shoelaces, or my four rings (including a fun puzzle ring) that I keep on my hands at all time. I like giggling when there's something immature to giggle at, and I feel that it may be allowed (or possibly even acceptable-- such as when I am with a few close friends). I am working on the important things, like being responsible for my bank account and using the bus system this summer to get to my two jobs. And I love a good intellectual conversation about books or movies or religion or abstract ideas. I could dissect The Dark Knight for you here and now and explain to you every symbol of chaos and order I found in the entire film, and that would take a while.

I also like grammar. Grammar is a mature thing, right? 

The point is, that while maturity is important, the life of a person is more streamlined than that. Maturity comes, not in years and chunks, but in milliseconds and wisps, and in a disguise different to each person. It's never really expected. I think one day you just look back and realize that you are the same person inside of a different person than you once were. Or vice versa. Something along those lines. 

And now, ladies and gentlemen, I will gather my remaining Gummi Fruit Snax and get back to writing my next article in order to get some monies that I may afford to finally buy the illustrated version of Tolkien's Silmarillion as well as fill up my savings account a little bit more.