Completing my final day as a teenager. Ok. Woopty-freakin-doo. For some reason I'm rather indifferent to this quote-unquote milestone. I'm really turning thirty anyway. Somehow my teen years consisted of wants and actions more like those of guys in their twenties. My mind might be fried from the one-hundred thirty degree weather, as I feel dull, mindless, and unorganized writing. I'll awake Sunday morning twenty years old and share the day with a few people I dearly love: my family and a few close friends. Bring on the "Happy Birthdays!!!," the pampering, the hugs. Oh, and the presents.