The thing about growing up is, you have to accept the changes in your life. You grow up, you face changes. And not just physically. It's a lot more than that.
So yeah, as of tomorrow, it's been two whole months since I've turned 18, and only now the reality of it has settled. Face it, I'm an adult, now. But then again, mom never fails to remind me that. She goes, "Stop behaving like an eight year old, YOU'RE EIGHTEEN!". Yes mom, I know. I know. I think. Well, there isn't really much changes I've faced over this two months, I'm still that crazy girl who loves to annoy her brothers and her mom, who cuddles her little puppy whenever she can, and who loves picking up a fight with her dad just to prove she's better.(But fail every single time. I'll get you dad, I swear.) But now, at eighteen years of age, I have to start making a choice of my life career. I have to start behaving like a woman. Manners and all. I have to stop watching the sports channel.(Yeah, right.) I have to take care of my appearance. Pamper my face with all those creams and make-up sets and whatever.
And and and the big one, "You have to start carrying a handbag."
Now, seriously. Okay, I know some of my friends have actually began to have their own handbags, even when they are fifteen or sixteen. But not me. Imagine me, having a handbag. That is a laughable idea. I mean, seriously? But yeah, mom actually got me one last Friday. Alain Delon. To keep my belongings. Wherever I go. And last Friday, I had to take it with me when we were in KL, and... I felt like a little girl playing dress up. You probably would not understand why am I making such a big deal out of this, but this is HUGE for me. I'm eighteen, EIGHTEEN! Grown up. My childhood, those rebellious teenage days where I can still pout at the corner just to get something from my parents, are gone. All over. And it went pass so fast, I did not even realise it.
That, was the handbag issue. Next, my cousin's wedding is next week. And we have to dress up in formal. Which means, I will have to wear a dress. And mind you, it's not the typical kids' frock I use to wear when I was eight or nine, it's a dress a woman wears. To look elegant, accentuating the curves, the one in which you had it on and the Miss Universe fantasy comes into your mind (This is not a fantasy of mine, I assure you, it's my cousin sister who keeps doing an Evil Queen in Snow White and asking the mirror, "Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the most beautiful in grandmother's house?" And she replies herself, "Me, of course." Oh God. She's only 8, for the record. And sooo vain. Btw, the only fantasy I have which is close to hers, is... getting marry to someone like Fernando Torres. No, err.. Alex Pettyfer. I mean, Rafael Nadal. Oh, who cares.)
So yeah, the dress. We got the dress last Sunday, and 3-inches of heels to go with it. As if I'm not tall enough. And all this feels too fast. The dress would look inappropriate if anyone under 16 wears it. But no, I'm not sixteen. I'm eighteen. And again, that feeling of a little girl playing dress up came back to me. Dad was smiling, I could feel him holding back the retort he wanted to make, mom was the one fussing all over me. Ergh.
I know, I'm making it as if it's a big deal and all when it isn't, but dear ones, this is the breaking news in my life. I'm growing up. And all this... is out of my norm. I don't know whether I like it, or I'm afraid of it. But hey, I'm still me. I hope that doesn't changes.
God, I'm losing my mind thinking about the wedding. As if I'm the one getting married. Dress? Checked. Heels? Checked. Accessories? Not yet. (Note: Get the beautiful ring you saw the other day, pout to daddy till he buys it.) WHAT IF I TRIP AND FALL WITH THOSE HEELS?! There, a premonition. I will trip and fall. I can barely walk in those! Thanks a lot mom, thanks A LOT.
Note to self: Never follow mom's advice if you are sure it's not going to happen that way. You are just gonna end up torturing yourself.
Anyway, this entire week, Deepavali fever is heating up! Helped mom do the cookies. The bomb, they are. I'm just excited for next week. Damn the exams. Tuesday there's the Thinking Skills paper, why I took the damn subject I don't know, Wednesday's Deepavali, Thursday's Chem practical paper, Friday, preparation for cousin's wedding, Saturday, the wedding in the morning, the dinner at night, Sunday, last minute studying for paper 6 Maths. How very exciting. But seriously, I am very excited. And oh yeah, nervous.
There, done with my rambling for the day. Not gonna blog tomorrow, I have an important, IMPORTANT exam on Thursday, so if you see me online for more than 15 minutes, kill me. Seriously.
There you go, Siew Ern. Go download the app for you to be able to dream and imagine, at least. Before I throw you into the dungeons, for real.
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