Once again, I have homework to do, but I haven't updated this journal yet in December, and it should be done. Andrew Jackson can wait a while.

I just turned seventeen, and it got me thinking about a lot of things. I skipped a grade a while back, so I'm perpetually younger than everyone else in my class. It means several things. First, starting this month or next, most of the people I know will be turning eighteen. Eighteen--it's one of those things that when you're a kid, you say, "Wow, that's really far off. That's being an adult. No way am I even close to that." Now that I am--now that everyone is--it's hard to shake off the sentiment. It's still weird, thinking about how the kid with the purple hair and a strange inability to grow facial hair is now an adult. The girl with a larger cup size than IQ is also an adult. And while everyone else is turning eighteen, I'm still a kid.

Stupid, right? Well, maybe not. When I go to college next year, it won't be very cool being the only one on campus (conceiveably) who can't vote or do other adult-friendly things.

Seventeen, and not even a car to show for it. I hate not being able to drive. It sucks. But you tell me what the lesser evil is: asking for rides until I'm eighteen, or having a panic attack every time I get behind the wheel?

Because I'm younger than the people I see every day, I've never had any trouble having that age-paradigm-shift that comes with a birthday. When I turn thirteen, I already felt thirteen six months after turning twelve. This time it's not happening so easily. I still feel sixteen, dwarfed and alienated by all of the people I know who are making the transition that I can't even fathom yet.

It's also brought about thoughts of graduation. I mean, in six months, I will never see any of these people ever again. I'm not exactly attatched to any of them (if you know me, or else have some kind of idea, you'll know that I'm rather esoteric and I don't rely on other people to make me feel happy and complete) but they're all I know. I'm both excited for and dreading the prospect of rebuilding all of my relationships, and myself, from the ground up. At the same time, I think of a lot of things I'm leaving behind that I didn't even think of before...the people that I could have known better, that I should have talked to more, that maybe would have talked to me more if I wasn't so [whatever].

The thing is...I kind of wish I could miss people like I know some other kids are going to. I wish I had these awesome friends that I hung out with every weekend and we studied together (or not) and ate lunch together and they never made me feel like I put my foot in my mouth, even thought I do that at least twice a day in some way, shape or form.

Maybe I just wish things could have been different all-around. Even if it was just to see if I would be different, happier. Who really knows?

~ Scritt