The Scribblings On The Wall...

It's February already and I don't think I'm alone when I say that time's moving really fast nowadays. It's quite disturbing.

And you know something is not right when a girl who's turning 19 this year (yours truly), got super excited when Hercules was shown on Disney Channel, while the 10-year-old and 9-year-old girls only got mildly excited.

Oh, and I still want to watch Beauty and the Beast, my favourite Disney movie of all time. If only I can buy the VCD.

Oh, by the way, according to timeanddate.com, my birthday is in approximately 54 days time! Or 1296 hours. Or 77760 minutes. Or 4,665,000 seconds. Hehe.

Since my 19th birthday is coming soon, and since I'm starting university next week, I know I am expected to act more....adult-like. I'm expected to be more independent, more responsible, more matured and well, basically be less childlike. But that's the thing. As much as I like being an adult, I'm still not ready to let my childhood go.

I still like watching cartoons. Sometimes when I go to playgrounds with my siblings or cousins or friends, I still love going on the swings. And I can't help being envious with my youngest sister, Zara. She looks forward to Wednesdays, because it's the day when she has computer classes. And she gets to play games on the computer. Suddenly, I was reminded of the time when I was in A-Levels last year. On Wednesdays, I got to use the computer, too! But instead of playing games, I had to come up with a programme using Visual Basic. Whoopee me.

On the other hand, I love the freedom that I get from being a "young adult". As I'm getting older, I'm becoming more dependent on myself and less dependent on my parents, and thus, relieving their burden on raising me. I have the freedom of going everywhere without having to rely on my parents so much. And I've also come to appreciate my parents hard work in raising the six of us more now that I understand that money don't grow on trees (well, technically, they do. I mean, the paper to make notes come from trees, right? But you know what I mean...)

The thing is, if age is nothing but a number, then why do we make such a fuss over our age? Like almost all of my friends are turning 20 this year and they're like freaking out because they're not ready to be 2o, not ready to leave their teen years behind to become, supposedly, full-fledged adults. And here I am, worrying about turning 19. Hahaha.

I remembered complaining to my dad about turning 19 about 2 months ago, and my dad, who is 45, said to me, "Alia, one of my ex-classmate from MCKK just had a wedding for his daughter and my friends and I thought, 'Damn, we're too young to be grandfathers'". I can now see where I got the phobia of aging from.

And Anis isn't helping. Everytime I complained to her about turning 19, she goes, "Kak Ya's old, Kak Ya's old".

If age is nothing but a number, why is it that someone's 16th and 21st birthday is deemed the two most important birthdays? And whoever said that 18 was an appropriate age to get married? (I've had people asking me whether I'm engaged or not, okay! Total creepiness!!!)

I guess I just felt like blogging about age because Tisha and I were talking about how we were going to survive if we had to go to Australia alone, with no family and no close friends. Adults wouldn't mind so much, but big kids like us are quite terrified of being left alone in a strange country. Even though we actually DO want to be treated like adults.

I feel like I'm contradicting myself. What a weird notion.

Oh yeah, I was singing to this song on Hercules just now: