When I Grow Up

Hey, guys! -waves-
So, today I turned 17. Yeah. I know. Exciting, right?
...
.....
-crickets-
....
Oh, yeah, good point. 17 isn't all that spectacular. I mean, last year I started to drive. Next year I vote. This year ... not much.
Except -- WAIT. I can buy duct tape now! Legally!

(Sadly enough, I did actually buy that for a friend once, as a birthday present. My maturity has always been superior.)

Anyway. :P
This past year has been hard. Everyone said junior year is hard, and I laughed at them, and now they are at melaughing as I pull out my hair and cry in the corner   stoically move through the end of the year. But I made it to Nationals, and I made it into Alpha. I got through incessant drama with some hair left  sanity remaining --
Oh, wait, sanity. I never had much to start with...
Eh, whatever.
Anyway again.
People always ask what we want to be when we grow up. At 17, you're expected to have an answer.
I still don't. I don't know exactly what I am going to be.
But I know who I want to be like.

Authors like Daisy Whitney, Stephanie Perkins, Kiersten White -- authors that respond to readers and write books to brighten up the darkest days. Authors like JK Rowling and Tamora Pierce -- authors that change a kid's life. Librarians like my own amazing and fantabulous Sarah -- an adult who is always there if I needed her, and who put me on hold for a book about 'How To Get Over That Jerk' when I showed up at the library depressed and pulling out even more hair   whining. People like Myra McEntire, who not only write amazing books but tweet niceness at teens who are now sad and bald  having incredibly bad days.
They're who I want to be like.
Plus, you know, there is this.

-grins- I like it.

I'm glad for this past year. I'm glad that, at 16, I've had some of the best role models a kid could ask for.
Anyway. (For the last time, promise!)
 I'm off to figure out what the heck a boutonniere is, because I've got prom on Saturday and I have been informed that I was supposed to figure that out weeks ago. -coughs- I am officially a fail as a date. Anyone wanna help me out here? It's a flower, right?
...
Meh. Google will teach me.
For now, thanks to all of you. Thanks for making last year great.
More later.