At midnight last night it was my roommate The Cellist's 21st birthday. We were chatting about our Christmases in our semi-dark in the kitchen around 10pm, with her sipping water out of my ASU cup and me eating a stale sugar cookie. Suddenly I realized what tomorrow was and asked her what her power hour plans were. The girl didn't know what a power hour was and wanted to go to bed before 11.
Good grief. No wonder she goes to a nerd school aka UCSD. My other roommate Dreadlocks came out of her room and immediately started brain storming with me how to fix this power hour complacency. We all threw on some mixed matched coats and slippers and walked over to the local liquor store for a much needed small pint of Sailor Jerry and 2-liter of Sprite.
Dreadlocks poured herself and The Cellist a shot and me a half shot [I had work this morning at 7am], and we toasted to it being past midnight somewhere. The girl laughed, and while I know she's having a better time in Vegas right now with her family, I'm glad we were there for her first drink of 21.
It made me a little nostalgic, quite honestly. I was drinking tea around 11:45pm for my power hour. My roommate playfully harassed me to no end until I went down to the liquor store to buy something alcoholic. I completely froze in front of all of the bottle and pints and cans and did not know what the hell to get as the store clerk was chuckling at me. I called up my good friend S---- who laughed along with me and convinced me to get Mike Hard's Pomegranate Lemonade because I was such a nondrinker. It has 5% alcohol by the way, lol.
Me, my roommate, and my other friend who lived on the same floor stayed up till 1 or 2am cheers-ing and taking way too many pictures to count. To my roommate--thank you.
Honestly though, I'm going to miss my ASU birthdays. For my 23rd, my boyfriend and I got to spent the night at his folk's really nice desert house away from everything. Some good sex and champagne later and we were relaxing outside with him and his pipe and me with my Sylvia Plath looking out at the desert landscape. We came home for my Ho Down party where everyone had to dress up like a country ho (flannel, short shorts) for a BBQ/hot tub/dance party.
For my 22nd birthday my boyfriend and I did a double date at the horse races, which I had never been to. My friend and I bought big hats and cute dresses for the occasion, and no, we didn't win any money. We drove back to Tempe for a triple date at my favorite favorite restaurant La Bocca where we all enjoyed mojitos, hummus, and the best pizza you've ever had.
And for 21, aside from midnight and Mike's Hard, my friends and I took a pole dancing lesson which was ridiculously fun and rather tiring. Strippers do deserve tips, gentleman. Oh, and my actual day of 21 I skipped class to buy booze, and my boyfriend flew in special just for the night (it was a Wednesday) and showed up with some Tiffany's, some erotica he wrote for me, and a heavy beard he grew out at my request. Some friends came over that night for a round of Apples-to-Apples and Blue Moon.
...I miss them. I miss my friends. I miss the heat of the desert on my skin and my apartments full of colors and candles. I wouldn't move to Arizona ever again, but do miss that time and place. I miss the lava cakes and watching Sex and the City with my girls. I miss walks down Mill Ave to Urban Outfitters, Fascinations, and La Bocca. And I miss being in a long-distance relationship with my boyfriend.
I miss how each time we'd see each other it was like a mini vacation where we'd go out to dinner every night, go out to parties, surprise each other with spontaneous visits and little gifts, make an effort to do something neat in the our towns at least once a trip and have sex the rest of the weekend (sorry, roommates), and just...I don't know...not take each other for granted.
He tends to say that money is the problem, though I didn't used to agree. Maybe it is. Nearly every guy I know gets more alpha and antisocial when he's broke and wants to hide it. Me too I guess. Less dates, less surprises, more jealousy and annoyance doing things out of necessity, or resentment if paying for things turns into 70-30 instead of 50-50. If we were wealthier would we have the same problems? Maybe. But maybe less. I don't know. I know that I miss him. And in a way, I miss me too.
But I guess that's the best thing of a new year. A fresh start. A chance to be better. I want this year to be about growing, situating, making good solid decision based on happiness, and opening up to new possibilities. I think that 2012 is going to be another year of transition, but hopefully by the time my 24th birthday rolls around in April I'll be able to toast to you and to me and to the happy things to come. Cheers!
1 comments:
Loved this piece! :)
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