Am I Going Crazy, or Was That a Toga?
I know it sounds ridiculous, but from all the hoopla I've heard about
sixteenth birthdays, I half expected a chorus of angels to sing me
into this new era of my life. You know, something special. Something
just for me. But the logical side of me knows that I'll open my eyes
and see nothing more than the same old blush pink that's desperately
clung to my walls since my 'I'm a pretty pink princess' kick when I
Of course, my logic wins out. I'm greeted by the cheery, if fading,
pink. As soon as my eyes become accustomed to the retina searing
combination of wall/jovial brilliance of the morning sunlight, the
reality sets in. I have two final exams on what should be a glorious
day. So instead of a day gallivanting in the sun celebrating the most
special of birthdays, I'm stuck slaving over a standardized test that
will prove nothing more than my ability to regurgitate facts.
With a sigh and a stretch, I get out of bed and stare out at the
world. I know what I'm going to see. A couple of oak trees, the
street, maybe a glimpse of the sky if the wind is blowing the branches
and its accessorizing foliage just right.
This morning I notice a scarf dangling off of the second oak. I have
to admit I'm a bit confused as I watch it twisting and turning,
dancing in an unseen breeze. It's not like I routinely go around
decorating my trees with accessories.