Here I am in Bellevue, sitting on the brink of a Starbuck's and Half-Price Books with my stepdad's mini laptop, feeling for the first time in my life that I am an adult. Not just 18. That's merely a number. No. I have a path to create now, to dig out and lay with any kind of stone I want; perhaps a mixture of many. It's the first official day of Winter Break for me and I hope this one doesn't involve a lot of moping about, boredom, and general face-stuffing. I have a license. I can steal my stepdad's car and go. Just go. It's a fantastic feeling, this new world that doesn't solely live beneath my fingertips in tiny little keyboard letters. Up until now, I've felt like I've been perpetually 13; at that awkward age when you're finally getting down your own personal style and easing yourself into groups of friends instead of trying to cram yourself into ones that you aren't sure you'll fit into. Dear Buddha/God/Allah/Goddess/science/what-have-you, I couldn't be more grateful for my friends. I honestly wouldn't be where I am now without them, and I surely wouldn't be WHO I am without them. It's fascinating how, like an amoeba, were capable of just absorbing certain traits of everything and everyone around us. Some days I'm convinced that I hate every grain of my being, but it's days like these when I am fully content, and it's incredibly nice to feel that way.

I wonder where life will take me. I wonder if I'll be happy doing massage therapy, or, if I go to art school, I'll fall into some magical cadence that will overtake my life and turn it into paintings and drawings galore. Right now, nothing matters though. Where was it I heard this? Oh yes, from Mr. French existentialist Albert Camus in English class. A choice is just a choice. Either choice comes with consequences, both good and bad. No wrong choice exists. No correct choice exists. When you look at it that way, life is just a beautiful random pattern of fantastical happenings. I'm okay with that. Come on life, let's go. Let's go have a picnic.

I wish you could bottle up good moods and save them for later, for even as I'm listening to some old grandpa and grandma singers resonate soft tunes, I'm not plugged into my mp3 or Pandora, blasting my usual loud, angry, and harsh music. I'm listening to this, where a bunch of old people that all look the same are sitting in a group, completely enjoying the music. I'm listening to the Spanish couple beside me, silently eavesdropping on their language, trying to glean all I can and feed my growing need for knowledge. I used to think I hated learning. I realize that I hate the institution, I hate the coercion, I hate the people. But I love learning, especially languages. Why stay in this country, in this state, in this city? That's no fun. I want to explore the world, and if I can't do so on my feet, I will do so in my head. I've been into learning languages lately, and strange ethnic instruments. I've begun to learn Russian and the mijwiz: an Egyptian dual flute. I've already got five years of Spanish beneath my toes and and understanding of the didgerdioo. But I want more. I want to show people that unlike all these close-minded fools, I'm not stuck in our fantastic country. (And I write that with no negative connotation, for when I think about it, we have a lot in this country that I am grateful for) I want to culturalize myself--a new word that means absorbing not my immediate surroundings, but those of the world.

A week ago, I hated Christmas. (Well, I'm pretty positive I still do, at least the commercialized and religious aspects--oh wait, that's all it is...) This old couple, singing 'Winter Wonderland' or whatev's isn't bothering my eardrums. I never thought the holidays could actually put me into a reasonable state of mind, body, and soul, especially when I've been shopping all day. Amazing what a good mood can do for you! The only things I'm bothered by right now is my dry, sticky, parched mouth and the fact that the nice Spanish family just left, so eavesdropping has ceased. That, and there's a strange cool breeze sweeping across my legs.

So before I bore your brains out for the zombies to eat, I'll end here and just wish everyone a lovely Winter Break/Christmas/Hannukah/Kwanza/Winter Solstice/or just a nice time.

As always, keep drawing, keep writing, and keep trying to make people smile. It sometimes feels better than smiling yourself.

P.S. I had a strange revelation today. I look at people and wonder about them all the time, and today I realized that people are doing the same to me. 'What is she writing?' 'What kind of person is she?' Just general wonderings. About me. How strange, and curiously thoughtful. Thank you, Mr. Stranger. Thank you Ms. Cute-girl-in-the-Goodwill. Thank you nice Spanish family.