I’m 21 going on 80

 
    I lost my groove and it's a bit disconcerting.

 
            The first day of school marked my 21st birthday - the day I had been anxiously awaiting ever since the first of my friends began crossing the threshold into legalized alcoholism. I should have been excited, right? I guess I am. Maybe?

 
            I can finally go out to bars and actually walk into NOCO on beer runs instead of hiding in the car. When I meet a guy on campus I can invite him out for real drinks instead of an ice-cold glass of loganberry. I can go to Average Joe's and commiserate with other Bills fans over their losing record with a Labatt in hand.

 
            I'm an adult, but I'm still young. A whole new world of fun is open to me now, right? If so, then why do I feel so tired of it all already?

 
            I had fun on my birthday, but I couldn't help but feel I was over barhopping before I had even begun.

 
            The first drink I ordered as a 21-year-old was a whiskey sour. Who am I? My grandfather? I could have ordered anything and that's what I chose? Failed life choice. Maybe I should invest in some Metamucil and calcium supplements. If my drink choice is old before its time, my bones may be, too.

 
            When did I get so lame? I used to love going out, hitting up all the hotspots in downtown Buffalo and having a great time with my friends. I used to live for nights of debauchery on South Campus - spiking my water bottle full of orange juice with pineapple rum before I took the Stampede from my Porter dorm room.

 
            Now, all I want to do is sit in my apartment, watch Gossip Girl, and drink beer on my bed by myself while glancing through Rolling Stone and The Economist.

 
            What happened to me? I passed up mini-skirts for sweatpants, sequined tank tops for an oversized New York Giants jersey and sky-high heels for slipper socks.

 
            I'm well on my way to spending my nights watching Wheel of Fortune and drinking prune juice while completing a crossword puzzle and I haven't even been 21 for a week. What happened to me?

 
            I love my fun-loving spirit and I don't know how to get it back. I don't even know how I lost it in the first place.

 
            Is it because I'm a senior now and the ominous cloud of GREs and grad school is hanging over my head? Am I too stressed out with the graduate-level classes I'm taking, my part-time job, my thesis, and my role here at The Spectrum?

 
            Could it be maturity, perhaps? Did I suddenly decide to grow up and get over drinking binges? Is it because I'm now legal, and I no longer find a thrill in drinking because I'm not breaking the law? I honestly have no idea, and it's frustrating because it is my senior year and I want to go out and have fun before I really do have to grow up and decide what I want to do with the rest of my life.

 
            I want to live it up, but every time I get dressed up and go out I can't help but feel mournful for the relaxing night I left back at my apartment. I spend my whole night leaning against a bar wishing I was lounging on my couch with a movie, a few drinks and a few friends. It's pathetic.

 
            I want to be fun again and I want to be fun now.

 
            I want to go out without thinking about the DVDs on my shelf at home and how comfy my high school cheerleading sweatpants are. I want to carry on a conversation with a guy in a bar without wondering what happens at the end of the book I'm reading. I want to dance the night away without worrying about when I'm going to get my 100-plus pages of reading done for my 500-level English class.

 
            College is a buzz kill if you think about it too much. Oy vey.

 
 

 
E-mail: cmt6@buffalo.edu