In two days time, this Friday, I’ll be nineteen years old. My last year as a teenager will start, and while I’ve failed utterly in my job of being obnoxious, annoying, and irresponsible so far, maybe I should grab the chance while I can during that year?
Mark is funny sometimes because when he is keeping secrets, it is so obvious that he is. He has this smug look on his face when we’re talking about what we’re going to do on Friday. So, yeah, I guess he’s planning a payback for what I subjected him to on his.
Because I expect something, I relented yesterday and followed him out on the town to buy new clothes. We went from one end of town to the other, and spent an interminable amount of time among the clothes racks. It did net me a nice pair of trousers and a new shirt though. I shall be ready on the occasion in new and stylish clothing.
Auntie was also over to give me my present, a gift card at a local book shop that’ll last for about two days. I have already surveyed what I’ll buy with it. Auntie is heading up north to see my mother, and the two of them will get up to some sisterly mischief from Friday on, so she won’t be here.
And now I’m just counting the hours until Friday while I read an odd collection of books. For one, I have to read Carl von Clausewitz for research purposes. I feel like conquering the world with my new-found knowledge of war and strategies. Ben, who has a bit of Polish in him, joked that I must resist any urge to march on Poland.
And then we’re going to have some school thing about the start of World War I, which is a weird thing to commemorate. I could see why we’d remember 1918, but not really 1914. I have done my duty and have started to read Owen and Sassoon, and I will do a recital.