Capitulation

I want to get contacts. [I just accidentally typed "comics"- that would be good, too.] I am sick of being blind when there's weather, I'm sick of having to constantly wipe them off. Sick of dust specks, sick of smudges. I've had enough.
I want to get a cell phone. If I had a cell phone I could use it to make phone calls. I could call into radio shows and talk to Carl Castle or Katie Skelly. I could call my mum who never gets my emails because of her spam filter. [I want to say the phrase "spam filter" to someone in the 1950s and see the look of disgust and confusion on her face. Like a coffee filter that makes your coffee taste like spiced ham. Mmmmm!]
I want a husband like J_m H_nle, only my age. I like everything about him except his unsafe bike riding habits.
I have developed a wrinkle between my eyebrows- a vertical line maybe a centimeter long. I want the cell phone mentioned above to be the kind that takes pictures because then I would take a picture of my wrinkle and show it to you. My skin is very dry so I guess it wrinkles easily, but still! I'm nineteen years old!

It sounds like I may be growing up. As Girl says, "That's it? I don't get a trial?"