Early Thursday morning, Mom, Josh and I will be piling into the Ford Explorer next to my ridiculous amount of luggage, boxes, and bags, and we’ll be heading to New York. After we get there, I’ll have less than four full days left with Josh. Then the most excruciating school year of my life will begin.

Apparently, some magical spirit found out that I was broke as hell after the IRS raped me in the ass, and I got a random check for Citibank for over $500 for an apparent overpayment on my previous student loans. I didn’t even know I had it coming, but I’m definitely not complaining… That will pay for my Chemistry textbook and leave some left over for me to help out with parking and food on the way to New York.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve become pretty sure that I will come back to Kentucky, and stay, right after graduation. But I’ve also come to realize that this doesn’t mean my degree has to collect dust; I just might not use it in the way I originally intended. But I’ve gotten requests from some of the community soccer teams to make more DVDs like the ones I made for Sydney’s team at the beginning of the summer, and they’re apparently willing to pay. And that’s just a start. With connections and creativity, there’s a lot of ways I can use what I’ve learned right here at home. And I think in the end, I’ll be happier here anyway, with my friends and family nearby. More importantly, this is where Josh would be happiest.

So I’m going to soak up New York during this last year while I have the chance, then bid adieu. I’m not saying forever, but at least for now.

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I am now officially, without debate, an adult. I can rent cars, buy alcohol in the United States, enter legal contracts, and my Kentucky driver’s license will go from vertically oriented to horizontal. *whirls finger in air*

We sort of celebrated again last night with pizza and alcohol. I’m not sure why I was determined to stay awake past midnight, as I was drinking well before that time marker. (I actually just had one amaretto sour and a shot of butterscotch and vanilla something, because I’m boring.) It was just me, Josh, and Jennifer, as everyone else was gone/sleeping/working. I saw Enchanted for the first time (which I loved), then watched Knocked Up for the millionth time, then Josh and I just came upstairs. I’ll probably drink more tonight, since it is actually my birthday, but I have to be at work at 11:30 tomorrow morning, so I probably shouldn’t breach the puking point.

I don’t feel any different. If anything, I’m just more acutely remorseful for the childhood feelings I lost many years ago. The simple joy of reading a book on the couch during the summer while Mom vacuumed the living room rug. Sitting at the top of the stairs at the old house, listening to Jennifer and her super-cool friends talk about stuff I couldn’t understand yet. Lying in the grass in the backyard without worrying about bugs crawling on me, or about the million things on my to-do list.

People say it’s unfair that we start out with the best, most carefree years of our lives, and have to get older and wiser and more realistic. But they forget about the glories of elderly life that you may be fortunate enough to be hit with such as dementia. My great grandmother has it, and I’ve never seen her so happy and carefree. I think I’m the only one in my family that doesn’t feel bad for her. I envy her.

Anyway, I’m 21. The next milestone will be graduation, in less than a year. Then I’m really fucked.

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Yesterday, we celebrated my 21st birthday three days early, as this was the most convenient time for my mother.

It was fairly simple. My sister cooked one of my favorite meals (meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and peas), and she and my mother made a cute little double-layer round cake. It was vanilla, with white icing and purple edges, flowers, and writing that said “Happy Birthday Michelle.” There were no invitations sent out; it was just me, and the six people I live with.

True, this was not at all exciting. I suppose most people feel the need to have blowouts on their 21st birthday, as it’s the last major birthday of your youth. But it didn’t bother me. It was nice to just stay at home and eat good food. Besides, I don’t have any friends anyway, right? Not that I’m complaining. I’ve got all I need.

Over the past week, everyone kept asking what I wanted as presents. I honestly had nothing I wanted, as I’ve got more video games than I have time to play with, I have more CDs than I’ve listened to, and I illegally rip any DVD I want from Netflix. I mentioned that since the IRS has now sucked up every last dime I had left, I would need money for my textbooks this semester, since I’m taking three gen eds, which is unusual for me (as a film student).

I got three cards at the cake table. One from Sydney and Cameron, one from Jennifer and Roger, and one from Mom. Each card had $100 in it. I thought, DAMN, they really did not need to give me this much money! I never even dream of getting that much on my birthday! I was very grateful, and Mom said I needed it more than they did right now.

Right after that, out of curiosity, I went upstairs to check if the textbooks I needed for my classes had been listed yet. Lo and behold, they finally were - totaling over $600 if purchased through the NYU bookstore. My mouth hit the floor with a sickening crunch. I started hunting through half.com for cheaper prices on the same books. I ended up purchasing three of the four books I need yesterday, and as luck would have it, it consumed all of my birthday money - a grand total of $299.20. Ironic, isn’t it?

The last book I need is my chemistry book, and it’s $225 through NYU. I can’t find it online anywhere - it must be a new edition. I really do hope I can find it somewhere cheaper, because if I have to pay that much for it, I don’t think I’ll be eating through September. Unless my dad actually acquiesces to my request for some help with food money this semester, which I am not holding my breath for.

After that, Josh decided to give me his presents as well. He first apologized, of course, because he’s never sure on what sizes I wear. AKA: HE GOT ME CLOTHES. He didn’t do too badly, actually, he just thinks my ass is smaller than it really is. The capri sleep pants with Tinkerbell that he got me fit fine, but the top he got to go with it is about two sizes too small. He got me a new towel wrap, too, and it’s just barely too small. But it’s alright; as I work at the department store that he got them from, I can just exchange them Monday when I go back to work. :)

Then we went upstairs, had sex, and I passed out early.

Happy early birthday to me.

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I’ve had several headaches recently, and I think it’s due to my inability to focus on the present rather than the future. I’m trying really hard to stop looking at house plans and making future budgets and worrying about where we’re going to be two years from now, but I can only keep these things pushed away for a few hours at a time before I start making lists again while I’m at work and using the calculator on my cell phone.

In a sense, I’ve been trying to force myself to be lazy. Playing video games and watching movies to take my mind off worries and unnecessary plans. I’m not sure which is the worse way to waste my time at this point. I’m also already beginning to pack to go back to New York, but this isn’t so pointless as it is a fairly close deadline (we’re leaving the morning of the 28th), and it does take some skill to pack properly for eight months’ absence.

I’m also reading Pride & Prejudice, my favorite classic novel. It helps.

I just know that when my mind is overrun with to-do lists and Excel files, I start to neglect my mental and physical healths. I’m trying to get back to the way I was, where I could still plan, but in moderation, and still live in the moment. I’m not sure how I got this way, but I’m working on it.

As my mom said, having a family “costs what it costs.” If you wait until you think you’re (financially) ready, you’ll never do it. This may be the best advice - even applied generally - that I have ever received.

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Since graduating high school, it has not been easy to keep in touch with even the closest of my friends - especially since I’m studying 800 miles away at NYU while the rest of them stayed in Kentucky (or, ahem, joined the Air Force). I do miss them quite a lot, but, I don’t know, I’m not dying without them.

Nowadays it literally seems like I have no friends - only family. Even the new friends I made up at NYU, I only talk to while up at school. I don’t talk to any of them over the summers. The only people I talk to or hang out with are my mom, sister, sister’s husband, niece, nephew, fiance, and occasionally my dad and stepmom. I don’t even talk to that much of my family.

But I don’t feel like I’m lacking anything. In high school I felt like a complete failure if I didn’t have tons of friends to call on the phone all the time. I guess it was part of the whole popularity contest. I’m not anti-social now by any means; I guess I’m just not actively pro-social. The friends I have built into my family seem to be enough.

Who knows, when I’m older and have my own kids it might be like it used to be. I’ll want to be friends with all the other mommies so I can host dinners and tupperware parties and stuff, or just get away from my husband. ;)

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