I feel like a hung over piece of crap. Fail.
I have never been a fan of birthdays. Its too much pressure to have a good time and be excited about life. I am excited about life but I don't like feeling as if this day requires that of me.
23, less cliche than 22 but not yet mid twenties. ( I feel like in books if you heroine gets cheated on, its always over some blonde mini-skirted "22" year old)
I leave for England in 6 weeks. And that will be the end of life as I know it for right now.
I am going to try and get the hang of this whole blog thing before I leave because I want to use it while I am there to keep people in the loop about my goings-on.
I think 23 is going to be good. Mostly because I have no idea how it is going to be and thats good because some people can already tell its going to be bad. How depressing that must be.
I am a kinetic ball of hope ready to burst onto the scene of my next life adventure.
I just hope I am as tough and fearless as I sometimes think I am.
We shall see. This blog will see.