nineteen

Today marks the occasion of my 19th birthday.
Thus far, it's been lacking. Not bad, just lacking.
Got home from the Greek's around 11:45 last night and exhaustedly passed out after listening to a lot of really melancholy music, namely Matt Pond PA (who I forgot I loved so much).
Woke up this morning earlier than I wanted to. Fred left me a present, a really gorgeous leather journal from Papyrus. But it's a gray day and the house is empty.
After doing morning quiet time with God and having some left over birthday soup with coffee (not a great stomach combo, let me just say), I'm online.

All my best friends (minus two of the boyses) are in Peru. My mum left me a message on my cell saying they're on their way on the plane from El Salvador where they were marooned yesterday because of a storm in Costa Rica. Ben sang me happy birthday. It was lovely, in a Ben sort of way. John left me happy birthday in japanese. Dad sang, too. Eva left a boisterous happy happy happy. I have some awesome friends, let me tell you. They all just happen to be in another country or state at the moment.

this weekend was... interesting. i'm excited for vail on friday. i'm thinking that lying by a pool surrounded by mountains will do me good.

love. h.

ps. nineteen is a silly age. not twenty and therefore the close of the teenage years, while at the same time lacking the rite of passage of 16 and the transition to legality of 18. it's merely nineteen-- limbo. blech.

pss. because i might explode if i don't get it out there: to an anonymous someone: sometimes brilliance, when exhibited to an excess, is irritating and tedious. thinkaboutit.