Over my past twenty years of existence I've come to realize that the changing of the calenders, often referred to as the "New Year," is awfully fooling. The eve before, often drowned out with booze, helps us to forget all our wrongdoings from the past. Yet, that same booze also disguises the fear that when the morning of January 1st arrives, the "new year" is going to feel quite similar to the last, topped off with a lovely hangover. So this year instead of drowning myself in parties where underage drinking is ramped, I took a low key approach, dining out with my boyfriend and returning home early to set off sparklers with his eight year old sister. This is the approach I hope to detail in a book one day called "You're No One on New Year's without a Fake ID." Now that many of my friends are turning the big 2-1 and house parties are no longer in existence, I've had the opportunity of revisiting my childhood pastime of kicking butt in boardgames. The longer I am 20 the more I realize it is the weirdest age ever. The bubble that is college can easily suck you into thinking you never have to meet the outside world. So for someone that is, as great philosopher Britney Spears once said, "Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman," the confusion of being both can sometimes keep you floating around in that little bubble. Hopefully I'll be ready to pop through that bubble myself before something else called "career" does it for me.
