Nineteen.

My birthday was yesterday. I am nineteen; such an uneventful and relatively meaningless age. The only thing it signifies to me is it being the last year of my teenage years, which means basically that next year I'll need to grow up and become an adult. I suppose the most adult thing I've done this month has been getting a credit card. Over-consumption of alcohol is hardly adult.

I spent the day beach-ing with Heather and Brian, and realized why I never go to the beach, let alone swim. I really can't swim. I'm really afraid of the water. It's quite pathetic. I just like to get wet and go lay in the sun and sleep. I had a really great nap, either way. Spent the rest of the night with Heather, Pete, and Ava. Just a really beautiful birthday filled with sun, relaxation, and really fabulous people. (I couldn't thank them enough.)

The situation with Alex is developing, though I do worry that it may turn around and bite me in the ass. I can't help but feel like the reason I'm starting to get really into it is because he's one of the first guys I've been intimate with since my ex. Which can mean one of two things: having been deprived of sex has turned my mind into thinking that any type of physical interaction automatically leads to falling in love, or that I actually do like him. I think it may be the latter. I find him completely charming, despite how cocky he is. The whole thing has me nervous.

On a side note, I'm currently watching some of my friends' lives turn to shit while mine is going rather smoothly... I'm anticipating the crash.