Was editing my Blogger profile and I can't bring myself to say I'm twenty. Not yet. Twenty's too big of a jump. It screams "No longer a teenager! I'm all grown up and independent". Twenty is one of 'em slim girls with long straight brown hair and shades walking down Orchard Road in her spaghetti top or bodycon dress and heels too high and who have that aura of confidence and beauty about them. Or maybe that's twenty-two. Or whatever. Twenty doesn't portray an enthusiastic chubby babyface who doesn't like makeup or heels. Twenty is a big number. What the heck, I'm J4!!!
Nineteen's a nice, safe number. I'm the senior teen, but still in that comfortable zone. Oh, I'm nineteen. Forgive me when I do stupid things on my internship; I'm all fresh and new. Oh, I'm nineteen. Old enough to be like a friendly tutor / guide to my tuition kids who can relate to them, and not old enough to be someone they don't feel like getting close to.
And girls in Singapore usually start university when they're nineteen, not twenty. And if you're American or British or Australian, you're in university at 18! I'm on a gap year and that's like a break from life. Like I halted time and age for me, and then I'll start university with all the other 18- and 19-year-olds; we're all on the same level.
Maybe it's because I'm on a gap year that time seems to have paused for me. I did a lot of stuff in 2012, but there has been no school year / academic calendar to keep time in check the way I'm used to. Whatever the case, I've got a lot of time to get used to 2013. I'm not prepared to take the '1' out of my age just yet.