Barcelona: Day 77 : Happy 21st .

And thus another year has come round, and again it is the day of my birth. It's crazy to think that this year, the age is such a milestone into the adult world. At 18, you are officially an adult -- at 21, you are really officially an adult. Although I suppose if you're planning on renting cars anytime soon, 25 is the mark for true adulthood. Regardless, my mom notified me a few days prior that she had received the license change forms in the mail.


To me birthdays have always, in my mind, sort of just been another day. When I was young my mother would plan extravagant bonanzas with all sorts of themes and activities. Not to say I didn't appreciate that, but as I grew older, I feel that I began to require and expect less from my birthdays. I generally do my best not to mention it, in hopes that perhaps it will pass by unnoticed. I have succeeded in the past in doing so, and I'm perfectly okay with my birthday passing with naught but a card or 2.

Many would argue, but this is a huge year, this is the big 21! This is the year you need to get shitfaced! Perhaps... but not right now. Not in Barcelona. There will be time for celebration upon return to Clemson, and I've been feeling sick lately, so going out and drinking as much as I possibly can is not the best of ideas.

It's interesting to see how people react once they find out it's your birthday. It always seems that one person opens their mouth about it because they really know you and know the day is yours, and then in a moment's time the rest of the world is asking how old you're turning, how you're celebrating, and what you should do for your birthday.

Um, excuse me. First of all, I'm going to do what I fucking want, not what you want. Second, you didn't even know it was my birthday in the first place, so why are you all up in arms about it now? And third, it's really never been that big of a deal to me so if you feel so inclined, give me a small well-wish and move on with life. It's quite simple -- and I don't mean to come off callous or anything of the like, I just want to be left alone with it. The things my parents do with or without my asking is always actually nice. I like the cards; many people don't, but they're always well written and simply make you feel good about yourself. Whether I get a gift or not with it doesn't matter as much -- though in a college student's life, a little extra green in the bank always helps.

This birthday was a good one -- card from my parents, Oreo balls (a whole HEAP of them...) from the girlfriend, a cake sent from a place in Barcelona by my parents (I was surprised and impressed) and dinner out at an American style diner with some friends. And I feel like that's how it always should be -- just an easy going time to reminisce and have fun. So thank you to those who made it a memorable birthday -- and thank you also to those who made it a point to wish me a happy birthday, despite the fact I am so far away. It means a lot when people do stuff like that.