I just turned 21 on Sunday.
Despite the amazing dimensions of freedom, at the same time I feel a bit at a loss. With all of this freedom comes another slue of responsibilities–or so it seems.
But what bothers me about it is that I look at all of those and am scared, well, shit-less.
In particular, I do not recommend drinking a Green Monster or a Lemonade … or a Stoplight at a bar where the bartender has her dimples pierced with little diamond studs. Yuck.
My drivers’ license is horizontal, I can go to bars and a certain aura of respect has manifested around me. But really now, it is just another year, isn’t it? I do not recall any particular rites of passage into adulthood as a 21-year-old accept for drinking oneself under the table.
But with these new responsibilities, I suppose, I have to step up now and set up my own rules. Not to mention, buying alcohol is expensive. Setting these standards, how to start? Possibly, by first figuring out who one really is–not the characteristics, but limits and thresholds. Blacking out is not a good thing. Don’t you want to remember what happened the night before? (well, maybe in some cases, NOT)
Tags: 21, alcohol, responsibility
