In which I turn Eighteen // Personal

"After all," Anne had said to Marilla once, "I believe the nicest and sweetest days are not those on which anything splendid or wonderful or exciting happens but just those that bring simple little pleasures, following one another softly, like pearls slipping off a string."  L.M. Montgomery, that wonderful woman, Anne of Avonlea.

On Friday, I turned 18.  And in an odd way, I do feel different.  I'm not quite sure how to say it yet, but I think that I do, which is weird, because usually birthdays pass with pomp, but not many changes, other than the number you tell people. It was a simple day, I had brunch with my mom and dad, and the little boy we babysit, at Luciles, a cajun cafe.  My siblings went to their co-op for school that day, and when they came home my mommy made panini sandwiches with pesto and balsamic glazed red onion and red peppers, and havarti, and salami and turkey on yummy pugliese bread.  My mom made chocolate on chocolate macarons for my dessert.  I received all sorts of yummy foods, and loving, but we did not make any crazy "ahh you're an adult now," plans.  After dinner we just sat on the couch all cuddled up, and talked, and I got a couple phone calls from dear friends wishing me a happy birthday.  It was a really nice day, and I think that those are the best kinds.
There are so many things to look forward to, life is a very grand experience.

Happy Monday.