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less charming and more strange than your average blog
January 20, 2004
Birthday, birthday!
Go shorty, it's my birthday! We're going to party like it's my birthday! We're going to sip Bacardi like it's my birthday! And you know we don't give a fuck about...my birthday? Well, that's a fucking downer. The point is, the long wait is over: I'm 21 years old today! HOLLA!
This is arguably the most significant of the age hurdles, the kind where you get new privileges just for being a certain number of days old. Let's see: when you're 16, you can drive; when you're 17, you can see R-rated movies and I think buy cigarettes; when you're 18, you can...what can you do when you're 18? Buy porn? 18 is when you're old enough to star in porn, so I should think you'd be allowed to buy it by then as well. How tragic would it be not to be old enough to attend the premiere of your latest adult classic, Rack-uiem for a Dream? No, you have to be allowed to buy porn by 18. And when you're 19, you can head up to Canada and experience what it feels like to be carded when you order a drink and have it result in actually receiving a drink, instead of being laughed at and spit upon by the waitress. Now I'm 21 and never have to worry about being spit upon again unless I hold hands with my boyfriend in public!
There is such a big fat line between being under 21 and being 21 or over. It becomes such a big deal the closer you get to the end of this excuciating waiting game that I cannot yet comprehend the way people over 21 seem to take their privileges for granted. Here's what I feel like ought to happen:
34-year-old man: Look! Look! I'm ordering a drink! I'm about to do it! Okay. [orders a drink] I DID IT!
His wife: WOOOOOOOOOOO!!
But it makes perfect sense that they do, of course. I mean, it wasn't SO long ago for me that the age of 17 was the big dividing line, between those who could buy a ticket to an R-rated movie and those whose hearts pounded with the fear that they might be carded at the box office. Now, the idea of not hanging out with someone because they couldn't get into an R-rated movie makes me laugh harder than Mena Suvari's career. It's silly to even think about. We'll see how long it takes for me to feel that way about strolling into a bar.
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This is arguably the most significant of the age hurdles, the kind where you get new privileges just for being a certain number of days old. Let's see: when you're 16, you can drive; when you're 17, you can see R-rated movies and I think buy cigarettes; when you're 18, you can...what can you do when you're 18? Buy porn? 18 is when you're old enough to star in porn, so I should think you'd be allowed to buy it by then as well. How tragic would it be not to be old enough to attend the premiere of your latest adult classic, Rack-uiem for a Dream? No, you have to be allowed to buy porn by 18. And when you're 19, you can head up to Canada and experience what it feels like to be carded when you order a drink and have it result in actually receiving a drink, instead of being laughed at and spit upon by the waitress. Now I'm 21 and never have to worry about being spit upon again unless I hold hands with my boyfriend in public!
There is such a big fat line between being under 21 and being 21 or over. It becomes such a big deal the closer you get to the end of this excuciating waiting game that I cannot yet comprehend the way people over 21 seem to take their privileges for granted. Here's what I feel like ought to happen:
34-year-old man: Look! Look! I'm ordering a drink! I'm about to do it! Okay. [orders a drink] I DID IT!
His wife: WOOOOOOOOOOO!!
But it makes perfect sense that they do, of course. I mean, it wasn't SO long ago for me that the age of 17 was the big dividing line, between those who could buy a ticket to an R-rated movie and those whose hearts pounded with the fear that they might be carded at the box office. Now, the idea of not hanging out with someone because they couldn't get into an R-rated movie makes me laugh harder than Mena Suvari's career. It's silly to even think about. We'll see how long it takes for me to feel that way about strolling into a bar.
