Buongiorno Buttercups, I am faced with my last day as a “teenager.” As of tomorrow, I will be officially an old woman. This means that I will have to remember to put a 2 instead of a 1 when writing my age. I can’t even imagine how long that will take me. It took me three years to get over not being 14. Don’t ask me why. I said don’t ask! Sheesh. I don’t ever remember having a birthday that made a really big impact on me. What I’m waiting for is 65. Woohoo! It’s all about senior citizen discounts. About three years ago I told my dad that when he turned 65, I’d start taking him out. My parents took me out for a birthday dinner last Thursday when I was in Dallas. It was fabulous. *drooling* We went to a restaurant called Tejas de Brazil. Excellent. I wanted a glass of wine with my dinner. So I had my dad order it for me. The waiter brings it. Sets it in front of me. Comes back a minute later and asks for an ID. Son of a . . . . hmmm. . well forget that. Give me a break. I’m having dinner with my parents, my gramps, and Adia . . . . I’m starting to have a real problem with this whole 21 is legal drinking age. I’m a responsible person. I can vote, buy cigarettes so that I can get lung cancer, decide who should be the president of the United States, join the army(die in the army), get married, gamble(unless they serve alcohol there), etc, etc. I am legally an adult. Financially responsible(theoretically. .*ring, ring* Hi, mom. . can I have some money?) to the government. But I can’t have a glass of wine with dinner. I can get married, but I can’t have a glass of wine. *shivering* Can I trade? Say I can’t legally get married. . . . but I can consume alcohol. I mean why not? I can scar my body with tattoos . . . . (which by the way Adia and Maya gave me two lovely ones if you haven’t had the pleasure of viewing them) . . I can suck in toxic fumes and ruin my lungs, why not my kidneys? Plus who are we really kidding here? How easy is it for minors to get alcohol? Extremely easy. Who has on older sibling? A friend who’s 21? Boyfriend, girlfriend. . . . . It’s a lot easier than even I realize. I’m not saying it’s right to go out and break the law. But I’m not sure that this law is helping. Are we teaching our children(zip it, Adia. . . . I am not going to have ten kids) to drink responsibly? How many people did I go to high school with who went to college and partied so hard that they flunked out? *counting fingers* A lot. *sigh* oh well. . . . whatever. So back to my tattoos. Maya graced my right arm with a heart that says, “Max loves Max.” She’s Maxwell. I’m Maximilliano. I said don’t ask! Adia. . . . also drew a heart. Hers has an arrow going through it and a ribbon across the front that says, “Adia’s B*tch.” Nice, huh? Thanks for asking. Yes, you should be embarrassed for drawing that on my arm. *mumbling. . freakin’. .. .* Adia and I had a great time in Dallas for Spring Break. Woohoo! She met some of my friends. That was interesting. They’d start talking about me! *hanging head* What was I thinking? Tara: “I can’t believe I actually got Mary to come out here with me.” Adia: “Yeah, not kidding. Getting her to go out is like pulling teeth.” Tara: “You have that problem too?” Adia: “Oh, yeah.” Hmmmmm. . . . . superdooper. Then she met Kathy. At Kathy’s house, Adia started looking at me. And I knew instantly. “No, you can not cut my hair!” Yes, I can read her mind. Kathy and I tool Adia to Pancho’s. Where she proceeded to eat too much and then felt like she was going to throw up. That was funny. Poor Adia. I fear that I will never get her to go to Pancho’s again. Bekks actually said, “Oh my god, you took her to Pancho’s? Yuck.” :-) . . . “Poor Adia.” Hey now! Adia witnessed Scott waking me up. I’m peacefully sleeping, Adia was on my couch reading. . . .or whatever it is that she does while I’m asleep. . . when Scott comes busting into my room. He starts singing, “Good morning to you. . hey Mary how do the rest of the words go?” I’m supposed to help him? Yeah, right. Then he jumps on top of me and starts waving my arms around while he sings the same line over and over again because he can’t remember the rest of the words. He then kind of sits up about ten minutes of that. . and I knee him in the side. “Oh no you didn’t!” Then starts kind of body slamming me with his shoulder. (And you wonder why I lift weights? Of course it’s all about that marshmellowly softness. . protection.) To which I give a yelp. “Adia!. . ugh. . help. . me.” She found it way too entertaining. She’s just sitting there laughing. hmmm. . . Maya aka . . Maxwell. . is my hero of the day. She got out a splinter I had in my hand. A bunch of us walked into a juice type place, Haymarket, and I sat down. . as my grams always said (as well as Sean Connery in The Last Crusade. . I think. . . where he finds the secret passage) I got a splinter in my hand through my sweater. Nice. I was trying to convince Bessie/Bart to dance on the table, but alas. . no such luck. That’s Claire’s thing. Alright enough of this. I’m tired. I’m cranky. I’m going to bed. I’m an old woman now. Have a great day. *big hugs* ci vediamo -Mare