"Make It Chocolate! With the Lemon Stuff on Top, and then the Meringue! You'll Be Famous and I'll Be Happy!"

In less than 24 hours, I will stop being 21. I will take a breath, blink, and it will be over. A full year of without.

Tonight I came home and the entire sky was brilliant pink, and as I walked and stared at it, my candy necklace got stuck on my diamond earrings. I came back for pizza and Pepsi. I had to have blood drawn today. My bathroom smells like pink grapefruit. I also finished Wuthering Heights; it was a gift for my last birthday. This is a typical day in the life of me. By typical I don't mean that I always eat candy necklaces or give blood to find out if I have a properly functioning liver; a typical day means that it's a string of unlinked, unimportant events that I'll barely recall tomorrow.

My favourite saying is always "I don't want to be here by this time next year." It's my birthday again. It's a year. Again. Every time I turn around it has been a year since something, and things are still the same.

Less than a day left of this crappy year, and then it's like I have a new start. I get to start all over at 1:41am. I have to believe that maybe 22 will be beautiful, that it can dull sharp edges and bring out some good in me, in the wake of the storm of 21.