hello, july

Is it just me, or did June just past me by? 

I mean, it's July already and in about 6 nights of sleep, I can no longer be classified as a teenager. Sounds like a big step, no? Maybe. It seems like birthdays never really manifest the sort of coming of age transformation I expect from turning a year older. I remember when turning 13 was supposedly a big deal--to kind of cross over that bridge from tween to teen (what really, is tween even???). I think my mom and dad left me with a little balloon bouquet and a Hallmark birthday card to wake up to. It was nice, and I still treasure that morning until now, but in retrospect, 13 still felt a lot like 12. For some reason though, I can't translate that exact feeling of age familiarity to now. Maybe it's because I'm an adult. Or maybe because it's the first birthday that I'm spending away from home, and from the glory of the home-cooked meals and the decadence of the Red Ribbon Mango cake that my mom would prepare on our humble dining table every year. 

So I guess in a sense, this is kind of monumental. I've been away from home for about two semesters now(except on holidays), and now I'm going to be away for my birthday. This is the first year in 20 that I'm going to miss my mom subtly(but cutely in her own mom-way) wake me up, first thing in the morning before she leaves for work, saying "happy birrrrrrtdaay." Isn't it weird how it's not necessarily the bigger things in life that mark the more genuine moments, but the little ones? 

Oh I don't know, I guess this was some sort of short reflection on turning 20. My roommates are away celebrating the 4th of July weekends with their loved ones, and I'm here, kind of just alone and slightly drunk off of the moon along with my late-night thoughts and musings. I really do wish I was home, but once I'm there, it's just so hard to face the reality of leaving it again. In between the irrefutable comfort of our living room couch to my mother's comfort food to my father's graveyard sleeping schedule and to scheming with my little brother and sister to have our dad buy us McDonald's at 2 in the morning--there's just so much of my heart that I don't want to leave. Living over 300 miles away has caused me to appreciate so much more of my home than I ever did, and it's not that I always crave it or anything. It's just that, as I'm inching closer to the uncertain adult life I'm destined to live, life just seems to become more real, scary, and unknown. And yeah it has its share of excitement and adventure, but it's just that sometimes, I kind of realize I'm alone and don't really know what "home" is in the future, and that scares me. The idea of a home back home, comforts that just makes the future a lot less daunting than it is. 

I think I've reached my rambling point. Its 4:23 in the morning and I oughta get some shut-eye if I still intend on making a day out of my Fourth of July here with some friends (which I do).