Happy Hump Day everyone! I can’t believe it’s only two weeks until my 22nd birthday…getting old. Birthdays are interesting. Little kids live for them, they spend their whole year thinking about them and the day is often so exciting that they end up crying over their ice cream cake. Then you turn 13 and think you are the shit because you are a teenager (though you still can’t really do your makeup and you wear WAY too much body spray.) Sixteen and seventeen bring a license and a sense of freedom and eighteen means you can put up an attitude when your parents still try to boss you around. Then it’s two years of stale birthdays…and then you turn 21.
I turned 21 in Ireland. A country with practically no drinking age and, on top of it, it was a Monday. I still finished a large amount of Jack Daniels, went dancing in Q Bar with my friends and wore a crown, but it definitely wasn't the same as wild 21 bashes that I have been to in the states.
Why do we have this obsession with getting absolutely smashed on our twenty first birthday? Most people have already had their first drink well before then and in many cases have also been served at bars. So why the out of control celebration?
Maybe it’s the fact that (besides being able to rent a car at 25), after 21 you can do anything you want. You have no more milestone birthdays to look forward to, no more countdowns to your special day. Turning 22 isn’t exactly something that I am super hyped about…all it means is that I am another year closer to 30. And 30....well that is OLD! ;)
xo
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