Happy Birthday

It has been a long day. I didn’t sleep well for the pass few days and had a migraine while sitting for my first paper yesterday. I seriously had no control over the degree of pain inflicted upon me but rather just persevered and thought what the heck, perfect timing!

Life fast forwarded for the last week was five days spent at the badminton court, three special dates, one funeral, a new bed, a surprising marriage and an almost new post. Before I start alarming anyone, the funeral was for a neighborhood dog and the surprising marriage is of our prime minister’s. And so you see, my life of straight seven days can be summed up in less than four sentences. Apparently life is actually quite brief when you come to think of it.

Besides, I am pretty sure the whole last year of my life was spent quite the same way; except maybe an extra kick or two to it. But the bottom line remains, that although I am ahem, officially 21 today, it really still feels like being 20. Or 19, for that matter.

Sometimes I wonder if I am left alone, with no one to actually care about my cyber musings; though I quite like the idea of being able to relax and chat and be an equal once in awhile. Not the way you would be with your husbands or wives, parents or siblings, but rather as a colleague or an acquaintance. A girl must always have someone to be on par with, someone who knows her just enough, but not too much to see the bulging fat beneath the comfortable costume. The kind of relationship where personal questions are not important and you only view them as a single unit, not as a package. The kind of relationship where there is mutual recognition and knowledge not quite enough to judge.

Personally, I am nonchalant to the issue of turning 21. I would have celebrated all my might, skipping my way to the nearest happening place, smiling and rolling on the floor laughing, dangling on the pink chandelier in the mall, steal a drink or two from the bar, bet a buck or two on roulette, then again, considering how my idea of a celebration usually involves diseconomies of scale and the risk of making myself public concern, I suppose it’s wiser to remain calm.

So here I am, keeping quite. Staying civilised.

Blow my candles. Cheers.