O. M. G.

This is my final day as a twenty-four year old woman(child) respectively. How should I feel about this coming of age? This entrance into my MID-20's. Should I embrace it, and grab TWENTY-FIVE by the horns? Or should I cry, because I feel like I should be turning seventeen, not twenty-five. I feel so young. Though, I guess I'm not really sure how twenty-five should feel, especially in these changing times of prolonged adolescence, maybe...I actually act my age. (But probably not).

When I was small, I envisioned what my world would be like at twenty-five. Yes, as a a young child, I really did do things like this. I thought that I would be married with four children...not single, kissing a lifesize poster of Luke Perry every night before I go to sleep.

Also, I'm not sure where the last few years have disappeared to! I remember every birthday like it was yesterday. I remember my 6th birthday, getting pink eye, having to postpone my DiamondBack gymnastics party...I remember my 10th birthday--double digits, boiiii. I especially remember my thirteenth birthday, setting my alarm for 6:46 am, (my estimated time of birth) and screaming at the top of my lungs..." I'M A TEENAGER," I'm sure my family was equally as excited that I chose to do this before it was even light outside. I ran through every room of my house chanting, "thirteen, thirteen, thirteen." I'm pretty sure I stole that move from DJ Tanner--but what-eva.

I remember turning 15, and my mom made up a song about me, it went..."fifteen years of being weird, that is Lauren...she is soooo unique." (It was to the tune of Sarah Mcloughlin's Adia). Ahh yes, and then there was my all-girls sweet sixteen at Mr. Chu's, I finally got my Tiffany heart chain bracelet, a staple of living in Livingston, New Jersey. Getting my license on my seventeenth birthday, driving alone to Shaggy's "It wasn't me" bopping around town, feeling really freaking cool. Then of course, there was TWENTY-ONE, a snowstorm blizzard beast ruined my birthday party. So, I took about 18 shots with my roommates, and whoever could brave the storm, I had thrown up, and passed out by midnight. And now, here I am at 25--I can finally rent a car. And with my driving record--you know that's GREAT NEWS.

I know that one day I will look back and wonder when my youth escaped me...I will look back at twenty-five, and lump that into this youthful category. So, yes...after all of this writing, I guess I have decided to embrace twenty-five, because well...I don't really have any other choice...see ya later twenty-four!