Saturday, November 12, 2011


Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday, dear Eliza, happy birthday to me.
That's right, people. I was fourteen, but now I'm fifteen.
I'm trying to see the difference. So far, I've noticed two:
1: My thirteen-year-old friends think it's weird that I'm so much older than them
2: I can drive-once I take the learner's permit test, of course.
I was talking to my friend about studying for the test. She told me her brother had a copy of the driver's handbook he probably wouldn't use anymore. I told her to giftwrap it and bring it to my party.
I didn't think she would take me seriously.
I don't feel different. I don't look different. I wonder if adults will treat and think of me differently than they would a fourteen year old. What do you think? Can a year make a difference? How about three or four? Is a thirteen-year-old that different from a seventeen-year-old? Do they have more differences than a thirty-year-old and thirty-four-year-old would?
 Leave a comment.

1 comment:

  1. That is one awesome cake. Did your mom whip it up? As to your question: No, I don't really think of you as getting older, just better, just evolving, becoming more you. Because I certainly don't want you to think of me as getting older. :)