6,574 days.

939 weeks.

216 months.

18 years.

There’s something special about turning 18. So many things you can do, so many things you can buy, and so many places you can go.

It’s a special milestone in a person’s lifetime.

Legally, when you turn 18, you are considered an adult. Your parents may not treat you like one, but legally you are. When I turn 18, I’ll still have a curfew of midnight, give or take a few minutes. My parents will still have a say in where I can go and with whom. I’m not allowed to just run a muck in the great city of Wichita. Very sad I know. But there are some things I can do.

I can get a tattoo without parent permission. No one in my family has a tattoo, and they don’t necessarily like them. But if I really wanted one, I wouldn’t need their approval. I know a great tattoo parlor in Emporia, so maybe I’ll get one when I go up to college.

I can buy a lottery ticket. No more nagging my mom to buy me one of those fun scratch tickets to see if I happened to win $5 or so. Now I can go out and waste my own money. Maybe I’ll get lucky one of these days and win the lottery. If so, maybe I’ll share my winnings with you guys, so cross your fingers.

I can vote. After 18 years, I can finally have a say in who is telling me what to do and who is controlling the country I live in. I might want to start paying attention to who is running and what’s going on in politics but I can manage that. Even if the person I vote for doesn’t win, I can still say I gave my vote.

I can lease an apartment or a house. I don’t know why I would want to when I’ve got a perfectly good place to live where I don’t have to pay for food or rent or anything of that matter. But hey, if I absolutely needed to, I could.

I can donate blood. I’m pretty sure I can do that before I turn 18 because I’ve done it here before, but maybe I can do it now without parental consent.

I looked these up on a website so some of these are questionable.

I can explore the night life. Clubbing is something that I have to do at least once at the beginning of being 18, just so I can see what it is like. I still can’t drink, but it should still be fun just to get out of the house and go somewhere with my friends. Club Rodeo here I come.

I can skydive and bungee jump. Two things I’ve always wanted to do. Heights scare me at times but only when I have to land on something such as water. I don’t like water. If you heard my fear speech early today, you’d know why. Anyway, the thought of falling and getting saved by a parachute or bouncing back up sounds like such a thrill to me.

The last thing I can do is legally change my name. When I was little I wanted my name to be Megan. I don’t know why, but I was in love with the name. So if I still wanted to change my name I could. But after having my name be Brooke for 18 years, well, I’ve grown to like it, and I can’t part without it. Now if I had a name like Gertrude or something, then maybe I would rethink that.

Overall I’m pretty excited for my 18th birthday. Maybe I’ll get something exciting or go out for a night on the town. Or maybe it’ll just be another year gone by.

On Nov. 15, I may be an adult in the eyes of the law but I’ll still be a child at heart.