Card from Gibbs: “I hope you have a wonderful birthday and your next year is full of lots of wonderful things…and books by French men.”

So I head up to History and lo and behold, there on my desk are two books by French men, courtesy of Mao. Next, I’m cornered in the stairwell by Hortensio and Lexine, accosted by Reyu, and sent off for the Env. Sys. exam, after which the IB coordinator hands me a slip of paper and says I’m to pick up a delivery in the office. So that was rather interesting. The exam, by the way, was easier than I’d expected, and I’m hoping this is a good thing.

At any rate, as of yesterday, 7:27 post meridian, I am eighteen. The burden of adulthood has flung rites of passage upon my creaking shoulders and it’s time for me to do my bit in the proverbial real world, even if it be only by acknowledging and adapting to the proper use of apostrophes. Now’s as good a time as any to overcome a couple bad habits, even if I still look fifteen, feel thirteen, and act eighty. Some things don’t change. Thank heaven for that.

Adieu.