Looking up at the sky, and into the Nation Blue.

I had a bit of a relevation earlier. I was thinking ahead to the birthday that everyone thinks I should be excited about, actually. About how everyone else thinks it's more of a big deal than I think it is. And I guess I've come to some pretty good conclusions. I mean, I don't need to celebrate having made it through another year alive. I'm happy for each day as it comes. Sometimes (when I've slept well and don't have to go to uni, work, or other unpleasant obligations) I'm just thrilled to wake up in the morning. Especially when the weather is nice...

Another good reason why birthdays aren't that special is that I'm just seriously fucking lucky. I mean, most people get excited about gifts on their birthday. Why should I care about gifts? I have everything I need, plus so much more. It's lovely that my friends and family go to the effort of posting me things, or transferring me money. But I don't need anything. I've got my money for the year already sorted, and I'm not one of those people who needs something and has to wait around for a birthday in order to finally have it. If I want something, I go out and buy it. Sure, there's always limits to that (I'd love a vege spiralizer, but am I willing to pay 30 Euro to get one? Not a chance!) but generally speaking, especially for things that I find important, I can just get it myself. For the last few years, my arrangement with my parents regarding birthdays is that if I want something, I buy it and they reimburse me. Which is why I got a pair of Bettina Liano Jeans for my birthday one year. I needed new jeans, sure, but I took advantage of it and got expensive ones. And if I didn't have a birthday coming up? Well, I probably just would have bought them myself a few months later, after saving for them. That's just how it goes.

So, really, what else would I need? I have absolutely amazing parents. Sure, we disagree on plenty of things, but they're good people and they've always done their best to provide for me. I have the best friends in the world, even though they're a long way away. They're still there if I need them. I know that if I should suddenly panic about something and desperately need to talk, I could call them in the middle of the night, and they'd understand. (Especially so because I'm not the sort of person to ever interrupt someone's sleep by calling them at stupid hours!) There are always people there for me, even when I don't reach out for them.

And finally, coming to my life in Germany. Sure, there are things I don't like. I'll have a whinge about the Mitbewohner on another occasion. But it's so easy to step back from it all. Bei mir, es ist egal. I say that more often than I'd care to admit to. Not because I'm that easy going (though we'd all like to pretend that we are) but because most of the time things just don't affect me. Now, before anyone starts to think I'm completely disattached from my own life, let's not get into any Camus comparisons here. I know I have friends who don't understand how I can simply not care about things. I know that people probably find me a bit cold, when they don't know me yet. And believe me, I know that it takes me a long time to depend on anyone. In fact, I'm probably still yet to achieve that one. But I also know that it doesn't matter, in the grand scheme of things. There are more important things to worry about.

I'm just so aware that this is all temporary. Sure, I might not like something, and things are always going to go wrong. I'm still aware of how lucky I am to be here at all. But I also know that come April, I can leave it all behind, and go back to the comforts of home. Not to say that things don't affect me in the meantime, because they do. But I can always remember the bigger picture. It's so much harder to do that when I'm in Adelaide. Here, when someone in my class is hell bent on yelling out every answer, despite the fact that they're not the person that the teacher has nominated to reply, I calm myself by simply remembering that the reason why they know every preposition perfectly is that they don't have any friends, or consequently, anything better to do than study. I couldn't do that in Adelaide; I'd definitely tell them to shut up and quit being rude. But here, it's not really my problem - it's theirs. (Though if they do it to me, I'm going to make a point of it!) I'm further from perfect than a person likes to think about, but I take pride in my ability to take pleasure in the simple things, and I don't need a birthday in order to celebrate that.