she don't wanna wait;

she says it only gets harder.

So I'm 21. 

This is pleasing enough. I'm old enough to get my slant on in America. I'm old enough that I can call myself an adult if I so choose. I can say I've done/haven't done something in "years" and it's fairly believable.

But goddammit if I don't feel hells of old. Not 21. Twenty-one isn't bad. But I'm in my fifth year of higher education. My baby sister is turning 16 on Sunday. And after Christmas I'll be 22.

There is something about 22 that I can't quite stomach. Twenty-one just feels like... I can still be a "girl." I can still be young and naive and pure and virginal and adorable and all that. I can go dancing and I can wear little tarty outfits and I can think I'm invincible. But 22 is a straight-up adult. "Girl" is an insult at 22. 

This could be just paranoia and silliness. In fact, I know it is. I'm not going to suddenly be old on my birthday. I won't lose my laugh or my energy or my lust for life.

It's just a number, and I've never paid attention to the number before, but it suddenly feels so important. I only have three months, but I want to stay 21 forever.

"But 22 and bangin' round in restaurants, is it that much prettier than bangin' round in bars?"

So, yeah, 21 forever.

your best kept secret

I'll be the first to admit that I cherish privacy - having things that I keep to myself. So why does it bother me so much when a friend keeps something from me?

"Do you mind me asking?"

"I do."

I know better than to take this personally. This friend is close to me and always means well - and this friend has as much right to a private life as I do. It is awful of me to expect this person to divulge personal information to me just because it's me. There are certain things that, if this friend asked me about them, I would refuse to share.

But this might keep me up tonight. 

I selfishly hope that one day I will hear all about this secret. But mostly I hope that this friend finds exactly what this friend is looking for - whatever it is, and whether this friend can tell me all about it or not.

Start

slowly.

I'm told that it is time for a blogging resurgence. Given that the tell-er and I were at the forefront of the first wave (I'm speaking, of course, only in terms of a small pocket of Saskatchewan), it is my duty to pick up and carry on.

If you are an old reader, you'll notice that my archives are empty, where once there were six and a half years of Rhiality. I just talked about nothing. At the time I thought it was everything. I archived it all, because I don't ever really delete anything. But the internet was dumber for my nonsense, and I feel ok about a clean slate.

So. Today.
I haven't felt like I just NEED to write until a few moments ago. And, if I know my province, my power will be knocked out in mere minutes, preventing me from posting it. I'll write anyway.
There is a truly insane storm happening outside right now. I have the window open (getting sprinkled on) to listen to loud thunder and rain and watch the incredible light show. On my way home, I drove past my turn-off to go to the northwest corner of the city where the street lights stop and you can see the prairie for miles and miles. Absolutely perfect for storm-watching. I sat there for half an hour, listening to country radio and watching the lighting in the distance. It got closer and rainier, so I came home. But I can't tell you how perfect that was. And! I smelled the electricity in the air! It's been a very long time since I experienced that - since stormy nights in small towns. There is nothing more perfectly prairies to me.
I was coming home from the Canada Day fireworks at Wascana Park. They were so great - not any better than any other year, but I love fireworks like a child so it didn't matter. (HUGE CRACK OF THUNDER!) The fireworks closed out a Canada Day that went nothing like I planned but still perfectly. Got up early, ran, went for R3 lunch at O'Hanlon's (what's more perfect for CDay than going for lunch with your friends from the CBC's indie radio station blog?) - and here's where it diverges from the plan. I meant to walk down to the park to loiter all day, eating ice cream and getting sunburnt, hanging out in the beer gardens, listening to kitschy cover bands. But it was so incredibly hot outside that by the time the boy and I walked to our friends' place to meet up with them, we gave up on outside and opted for air-conditioning and the Food Network Canada Day Iron Chef marathon. We had wine-sicles. It was beautiful. (POWER OUT!) We ate at Trifon's on Broad (greasy chicken burger - terribly delicious), walked back in the soupy humidity. We needed air conditioning so we got slurpees and headed for the movie theatre. It was the closest to being a kid that I've felt in a long time. Watched a bad movie, checked the score (we pulled out a win), made for the lake for fireworks.
I'm not sure what it is about my life right now, but I'm feeling really great. It's been many months since I've felt like this - like things are falling into place, my relationships are good, my money and school and work and health are all I could ask them to be. What a fine life I am living.
And today. After walking around downtown, seeing a million fellow Rider fans in green gear flocking to the game, watching fireworks in our beautiful urban park, and seeing this violent storm pick up - but not until the Queen City was finished its Canada Day celebrations - I felt more in love with Canada, Saskatchewan, Regina, than I have since I was a teenager and didn't know there was more out there.
I'll probably move away. But while I'm here, I love this place, unapologetically, without reservations. It has its flaws (so many, many flaws), but it's home.

What a nauseatingly earnest post.