Growing Up... When I was just a girl, I hated being young. Like many other kids I would trot up and down the living room in my mother's high heels, and when chances came that she wasn't looking, I would be painting my face silly and destroying Mum's lipsticks and blusher cakes.

When I was 13, I would go around telling people I was 16... and for many, many years I was 16. Birthdays for 13-year-olds don't sound nearly as cool as 'sweet sixteens', and every year I was counting the months till the day I would become 16 year old and finally... the 'happy sweet sixteen' would become genuine.

So now I'm almost 25, have my own car, have a job and earning my own cash. Being grown up never felt so terribly wrong. Last night I went to my form five class reunion, and well, everyone's really an adult now. It's awfully strange to see old friends from school (some whom I've know since I was 6) all grown up, dressed up in adult clothes, behaving like very experienced women, soaking up the scent of broken cigarettes and puffing and drinking whiskey-coke while playing hand games with the guys.

It just didn't feel right.

Suddenly I feel so old.   ¶ 14:14