I can't wait for my birthday.

I can't do this 18-to-enter-watch-your-very-under-age-friends-have-people-buy-them-drinks-and-make-asses-of-themselves-shit anymore. Honestly, I'm not going to be that person that buys my 19ish year old friends drinks. No jail time, or a very large ticket for me, thanks. And no, I'm not doing beer runs either.

I guess, when October 7th rolls around I will be spending most of my weekends with Mom and AuntieT (and her cute boy, too).

By the way, AuntieT, I am very happy that you have met a 6'3" hotty that treats you like a princess. I haven't met him, yet, I know. Though, I have this vision in my head, and I like this vision, so I hope I'm not let down when I see him. However, when I think of cute boys that I haven't seen I think no shirt, ripped abs, and a tight ass. Was that too much? Sorry. Oh, and I like that he has a younger brother. Is that bad? Mom says he's cute. At least, I think she did. I might have made that up.

I still don't have a clue as to what I am doing for my birthday. My options are limited seeing as how most of my friends are no where close to being able to step past that Must Be 21 To Past This Point sign. I can't wait to cross over that threshold. I hope there is a spot light on me. Little Britty will be all grows up--for the most part.

I wonder what my dad thinks about me turning 21. He'll probably shit his pants. My hopes are that he has a beer with me, but that might be a little too far fetched seeing as how I can count on one hand (maybe two) the times I've seen him with a beer.

And my grandparents. I wonder if they'll plead the blood over me. They'll most-likely remind me that God is always watching. You know, when I was little and they told me that God could always see me, I thought that by covering myself with a blanket I was forming a force-field around me. For no reason, really, other than the fact that I don't like the thought of someone always seeing me.