Twenty-one. Two one. 21. The traditional New Zealand twenty-first birthday celebration is a large party where everyone gets very drunk, embarrassed terribly and the birthday girl or guy goes home having seen a whole new side to Aunt Jane/Uncle John. Or something to that effect, it would seem.*
I’m doing the smart thing and having two separate celebrations: a nice, sophisticated dinner at a restaurant with my family and then drinks with my friends. I don’t have that many friends here, yet, so it’s not going to be a big thing, but hopefully it will be fun and enjoyable. I have a deep-set fear that I am boring and it will be boring and uncool and all those sorts of things; I hope to prove myself very wrong!
I am currently looking at hotels in Auckland’s inner city area because my parent’s are shouting me a room for the night of the drinks. Some of us have to travel a way to get into the city so it’ll be nice have a place to go back to that’s not too far away, etc. It’s making me excited! Before my 20th birthday I dreaded all my birthdays immensely but now I’m not so terrified of them which is a good thing. They should be fun events where you can be a bit outwardly selfish. 
Oh, and a bit bossy, too.
Anyway, I have just over a month to organise these two events, send out invites and so on. This past year has gone so unbelievably fast.
*Actually, that’s not entirely true. I haven’t really heard of anyone having a 21st that was that bad.