Light Up Shoes

by spaghettipirate

Call this my obligatory birthday post.

Today indeed, April 11th marks my birthday and my entrance into 22 years of life. Last week my baby brother – or can I even call him that anymore – turned a “man” now at 18 years, and a week to the day it’s my turn.

Frankly I wish that I was still old enough to get away – or rather they made for adults – LED light up shoes. Because really, I’m a 5 year old at heart and this growing up buisiness kind of stinks and it tricky to navigate sometimes.

For exaple, as of today, and for what I can only assume to be the forseeable future, I now no longer have dental insurance. Apperantly, once I turned 22 Company X decided that it was time that I too became a paying customer. Now, seeing as that currently I’m in no position to be able to afford dental care, I am brushing up (hah puns) on proper dental care as to avoid cavities. Still, I will miss the slick feeling that comes after a good teeth cleaning. Perhaps it helps that I actually like to floss and so at least my gums are what I can only hope to be all sorts of clean.

Unfortunately the bakery is closed today, and so I won’t officially get my birthday cake – French style, yo – until tomorrow. Which honestly suits me fine and I’ve never really understood how  a matter of hours makes a world of diffrence and how suddenly in the eyes of the law you’re a grown and responsible adult ready to take charge of your life. (Or maybe I am wanting a weeklong celebration and so it doesn’t matter really WHEN I get the cake) But I had a delicious ice cream tonight, and my belly is happy.

In fact if we lived in an idyllic world where I was President I would make a law that says every one needs to eat ice cream at least 4 times a week, because ice cream is happiness for the soul.

Non sequiturs aside, today it was actually sunny for a brief period of time and the temperature had worked its way up to 16 degrees before the tried and tested adage of “April showers bring May flowers” held true and we were treated to a litany of on-again-off-again sprinkles. 

Phillipe who is ever a dear surprised me this morning with my very first and very French cookbook. It’s a beautiful book with pictures and a dictionary, and it’s all in French so as to help me along with my French. 

(We all know the only language that matter is the one of the kitchen)

It’s wrapped up now, carefully as not to bang up the corners or stain the cover, but I look forward to the day when I can be in my very own kitchen – that pesky frowing up thing again – with my cookbook in hand. If anything it promopts me to continue with my French language education. 

It starts to come along a little easier, and while I may not be fluent, I can hold a simple conversation and at least stay alive with nourishment needs. So I would chalk it up as a success.

22 feels a lot like 21, and I still get mistaken for younger than I am, but it doesn’t cease to amaze me how fast time flies and how 21 years ago I was mastering the art of walking – an incredible physics feat by the way – and now I am on baited breath to get into my law school of choice.

My plan for the following week is that if the weather holds to try and take more pictures, but I hate now how people need the approval of others instantly in posed photos with witty Facebook captions underneath as they appear to have fun, instead of actually having it and, and screw the camera. But people have asked for pictures of where and who I am with and so I will try to be better about it, weather promising.

In other news, I really, really, really miss pancakes. I guess along with bagels it’s another American thing that they just. don’t. have. here. I want a whipped cream smiley face on top of my IHOP chocolate chip pancakes.

I guess I’ll settle for crepes instead. (I have been wanting to mix my two favorite things – ice cream and crepes – together anyhow, and today is my brithday; I can’t be stopped with my bad-ass devil-may-care rebellious attitude today, obviously)