Are we ever truly grown?

It's obvious that our bodies eventually stop growing, seemingly bringing an end to our adolescence.

I have reason to believe we continue to mature over time. Which I doubt anyone would argue with.

Just a few months ago, I was on a Twilight frenzy. I read the books twice in two weeks, watched the movie dozens of times, and blogged about it relentlessly. I read over some of my previous posts, and I've said things such as the books being my favorite books of all time, the movie being the best I've seen in a long time, etc.

What the hell was I thinking?

I like Twilight. Still. Don't get me wrong. The books were good. Good being the key word here. They are in no way my favorite books of all time. I don't even remember writing that they were, but I must have.

The movie was nothing more than mediocre. Looking back, I'm not impressed by it at all.

So six months ago, I thought a book written for teenagers was the best I'd ever read. (I'd deny it if there wasn't proof I thought this.) It just seems completely impossible.

Now, I don't care. I'd rather watch True Blood. (though I am not much of a fan of those books).

Could I have come that far in six months?

Furthermore, how will I be six months from now? Sitting in a rocking chair, spending my days knitting sweaters?

(Okay, maybe that was a bit much, but really...)

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