Coming of Age and Still Dreaming

Yesterday, I hit the final milestone of youth. I turned 21. According to my mother, it's all downhill from here, because this is the last year one looks forward to. Post 21, you begin to dread your birthdays, to lie about your age, or choose to completely disregard it.

I'll probably change my mind once the aging process starts racing menacingly towards me, but for the time being (read: while I'm young, impressionable, and idealistic), I disagree.

Yesterday, I became an adult, and I am excited about the benefits this status reaps. I can sign a contract. I can open a proper bank account. I can vote (haven't decided for whom though, but I have time). I can move into my own place now (not that I'd want to. Why? Who'd want to pay their own bills?) I can drink (not that that's ever stopped me or anyone before) - that should really read I can go clubbing without a fake I.D. now, since the drinking part isn't a big deal to me. I am free(r).

Even the responsibilities aren't too daunting. Yes, I must file for taxes. But that's not a big deal seeing as my pitiful salary is in Egyptian Pounds and thus converts to mere peanuts in the U.S. Yes, I can't break the law and claim juvenile ignorance. But living in Egypt, I can a) Call Daddy, b) Call any corrupt official of my choosing, c) Call Daddy, d) pay the arresting officer off, or e) Call Daddy. And yes, I can't act irresponsibly any more. But that's not really true, is it? ;)

At first I didn't really want to turn 21. I didn't even want to turn 20. I walked around demanding to be referred to as "twenteen" for a good 7 months. But growing up doesn't seem so bad anymore. It's a whole new chapter; one I hope to fill with adventures, achievements, and joy.

Who knows? Maybe I'll travel the world and discover a way to make a difference in the world. In that case, keep reading, there are bound to be some wicked entries in our future.