Don't judge me for the title of this post...it was too fitting to not use.
Earlier this month I celebrated the big 22!....That is a big birthday right?
No, I did not get sloshed and make a fool of myself...I did enough of that a year ago. No, I did not get a car to start driving around recklessly because I am full of freedom. No...I did not go over any hills.
What did I do? I went for drinks with my parents, I watched Rachael Ray, and contemplated what life is suppose to mean now.
Granted I have one year left in college (fifth year senior what, what?) and I am getting to live in an apartment all by myself with no one else's dishes to do and popped pimples to wipe off the mirror. I guess I can't really complain. I mean one more year of careless weekends, late night tv, and grungy no-I-didn't-shower-today apparel.
Wait...rewind....another year of books...studying till i'm hungry enough to eat my fridge, drinking whole pots of coffee at a time and then getting two hours of sleep? Great...I am lucky enough to get another year to figure out where the heck I am going to end up. Because that's not stressful...I am gonna go gray earlier than I need to.
On the flipside, I figure if I have made it this far in life with out a broken bone or having to work in fast food I am golden. That has to mean something, right?
Back to feeling 22...I don't know about you but...I imagined 22 to be no different than 21. However, this is the first birthday that I actually noticed a difference. Being 22 years old actually feels different than 21 to me. Weird, right? Maybe i'm not the only one?
Last year I was too busy making enough jungle juice to water Africa while this year I was thinking of all of the life moments that make up 22 years.
8 years of marching band, 8 years of piano lessons, 7 musicals, 7 years of voice lessons, 11 years of playing the trumpet, 16 years of school, holidays in Texas, Virginia, Minnesota, California and Montana to visit family. 6 nieces and nephews with one on the way, 1 year on the Panhellenic Council, caring for my parents through 1 broken leg and 1 hip replacement, 3 honor choirs, 1 year in a crappy apartment, 4 years of volleyball, summers by the pool with my friends getting tan ( me getting sun burnt) and laughing for hours, 4 summer vacations with my best friends, 3 years Connecting Alumni to Students, 6 years of jazz band, three years in Rockappella, 4 hair colors, 3 years of being a lady of Gamma Phi Beta, 5 years of colorguard, 3 broken hearts, 2 car wrecks, 1 year as a life guard, 2 years as a dog walker, 2 springs breaks in PCB, 1 year in a sorority house, 1 serious case of hives, dating 2 gingers, hundreds of hours of watching Netflix, 9 school dances, reading hundreds of books, and rearranging my room to many times to be a sane person.
It's strange to type those things out and see how straight forward and simple it looks. All of those markers that make us who we are on paper just look like words. But read in between the lines and there is a life there. A life that has shed tears, morphed, grown, smiled, fought, made mistakes, been completely nuts, tried to be good at sports, spent too much money online shopping and gone down the roads to get where you are now.
I wouldn't change a single minute of it for all of the jungle juice in the world.
22 years down, 78 more to go.