On February 4, 2004 I celebrated my 22nd birthday in England. It was a Wednesday night.
My university had student night out at the Carleton Club every Wednesday night. You bought a ticket on campus on Monday, took the free bus on Wednesday, and had to show your library card to get in. Because it was my birthday, I got in for free, was given a yellow balloon to tie around my wrist so everyone knew it was my birthday, and two free drinks...at the same time.
The Stiff-un was the Carleton signature drink. It was only vodka and Red Bull in a neon plastic cup but it was notorious. So there I was double-fisting two neon cups dancing to Shut Up by the Black Eyed Peas dressed as a lady gangster. Let me back up...
In England it was not unusual for a group of girls to dress up like it was Halloween (in a month that was not October) to celebrate birthdays. My friends and I rocked an all black outfit, white tie, and pink fedora.
It was such a fun night and A.P. and R.D. joined in the festivities. We danced. We drank. We flirted with boys. There are pictures from the evening that I have no recollection of how they got onto my camera.
But the best part was the next morning. I woke up in my bed, still in my gangster outfit with a helium balloon floating above my bed because it was still tied to my wrist.
I did not make it to my first class that Thursday morning.
Thank you to everyone for the birthday wishes as I embark on the final year of my youth. I have spent the last month mentally preparing myself for today and am surprisingly feeling good about 29....unlike last years scene.
I frantically call S:
A: I can't believe it's almost my birthday!
S: I know.
A: I've just been so busy with work. I can't believe I'm going to be 27!
A: OH MY GOD! I'M ALREADY 27!
I was in fact turning 28 but forgot. So this year I made sure that wasn't going to happen again.