I know this is a day late and a dollar short, but would you believe me if I told you that I was busy? I had to study for an anthropology test, a chemistry test, write up 2 lab reports, and do online chemistry homework.
Enough of my attempt at pity gathering. On July 4th, I realized that I had just accomplished a major feat. In my own silly reasoning, I had completed a rite of passage that has eluded me since I can remember.
My family and I went to the city fireworks show on Saturday, but we had our first family made mini-show in our backyard. The caliber of the fireworks we had was definitely not what the city's was, but then again we are surrounded by trees, it hasn't rained in a long time, and it was our first attempt at a fireworks/July 4th production.
The moment of triumph, of victory, of awe, came when I held my first sparkler without being terrified that it would explode, taking my hand with it. (Maybe chemistry class is helping?)
It was also a milestone because it was the first sparkler that I ever lit by myself. Ever. Now, I have been able to use a lighter for quite some time but not for obvious reasons. I just like fire. Matches are more fun.
Yes, to me, lighting my first sparkler and holding it without being terrified is a milestone. I don't know how far I have progressed though, because with each successive sparkler lighting and holding, I had more fun pretending I was at Hogwarts. What kind of rite of passage was it?
I muttered spells so that my family wouldn't hear me. Wingardium leviosa. Expecto patronum. Lumos. I never uttered the Unforgiveable Curses. Never do that!
A few days after the July 4th festivities had ended, I was talking with my parents out in the garage. I can't remember what led to this particular subject matter, but we ended up talking about age. I remember saying, "...I'm almost 20 years old, Ma..."
Then Mom repeated something that I said, including my age, but when she said it, she actually said that I was 20. I quickly corrected her. I'm not 20, I'm 19...almost 20. Then I stopped.
Whoaaaaaa. Whoa dude. Come November, I will not be a teenager anymore. I will be 20.
Then I thought, oh no. I've become a cliche! Or at least I will be soon! You know how sometimes in conversation, while rehashing the old days, people will say, "I haven't done that in, what, 20 years! 30 years! et cetera."
I know that when used, those numbers are sometimes rounded, but still. I will be one of them soon!
I am almost 20 years old. I just now lit my first sparkler. I pretend I'm a wizard when no one is looking.
So that's been my week for you. A week with a rite of passage, horrifying revelations, and summer school tests. Happy belated 4th of July!