I think the craziest thing about turning twenty today isn't that I'm not a teenager anymore, or that I've actually made it somehow through all this time without any major mishaps, I think it's just being able to say that something happened two decades ago, and I was there for it, and here I still am. I guess it's fair to say that we as humans have amazing staying power when it comes to just breathing. The most sheltered of people endure a lot throughout their whole lifetime, and still, most people just choose to let themselves grow old and to see where things go, even if they don't really go anywhere at all. I drove home tonight way too fast from my boyfriend's house and I can officially say that the last song I listened to as a teenager was a trance track that I fell in love with when I lived in the city two years ago. I don't even listen to music like that in general, but it just felt right somehow. When I got home, my mother was sat on the sofa and my headlights glared in at her for just a second while I stuffed all of my belongings back into my bag and climbed out to be greeted by my favourite black cat in the whole world. She drinks out of the tap and likes to frolick in water and roll on her back like a dog. There were so many books for me on the table. Five, in fact. Irvine Welsh and Chuck Palahniuk and Ken Kesey and Ernest Hemingway. My favourite was a children's book picked out by my mother called 'Jumpy Jack & Googily' purely based on the fact that she said the cover reminded her of me. I'm not sure why exactly, but it's not insulting. It's just kind of nice to receive a gift because somebody saw it and thought of you. I didn't expect gifts or money, not at all, but I think that my family have really outdone themselves this year in making me feel noticed and appreciated. Hopefully I'm out to start the next decade on a positive note. As of two thirty this morning, I'll no longer be a kid anymore.