I'm Too Old For This Shit

In my group of friends, you can't just have a party. If you throw a party, it has to have a theme. And my friends are the best at theme parties. So, from the great minds that brought us the Shotgun Wedding/Vegas party, the Pun Party, and the Under the Sea Party, came last night's Rumspringa Party.

Rumspringa: The time in every Amish teen's life when he or she is allowed to set out into the world and try it our way. Often times, they go batshit and party like they've never partied before, because well, they haven't.

For this party, everyone was required to dress as a slutty Amish person. A seemingly difficult task I realize, but we are Honors students! This morning, I had a Philadelphia Film Festival Volunteer Training Session and had to be a work at 8:30 AM. Therefore, I decided to go easy at the Rumspringa Party and purchased a 40 in lieu of my usual Vodka and "Enter Mixer Here."

A "40": A 40 ounce bottle of malt liquor beer, the drinking of which will get you suitably drunk but not knock you on your ass. Taste horrible at first, but improves as you drink. Remarkably inexpensive. Common in ghettos including but not limited to North Philadelphia.

So I got my 40 from my local shady convenience store and headed to Rumspringa, where I had such a roaring good time that I would have surely traded my bonnet for a trendy knit cap were I actually Amish. When I got home, I went to bed, watched an episode of Primeval, and promptly passed out. Before, may I add, setting an alarm for the morning.

Hint for Everyone, Everywhere, Ever: Always set your alarms before you go out for the night!

It was only by the grace of God and a couple late relatives looking down on me that I naturally woke from my drunken coma at 7 AM to find my computer still safely perched on the edge of my bed. I managed to ready myself, fix a lovely Hangover Breakfast of Cheetos, Lays, and Diet Coke, and get my ass to work.

As I got dressed, I thought of the second party I was meant to attend tonight. The mere thought of drinking again -- especially drinking as much as I was expected to drink -- made me want to crawl back into bed. I only had a 40! I used to drink that and be able to get up in the morning and do jumping-jacks. When did I get so old?! I realize this is supposed to happen, but I didn't think my body would start hating me until I was at least 30. Perhaps it's a strange affect of Global Warming? Perhaps in anticipation for the end of the world, my body is trying to do all its aging before 2012? Whatever the reason, I'm not 18 anymore!

When I was a freshman, we used to like to do "three-petes," going out on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights. Back then, the prospect of a three-pete made me want to get out my party shirts and hit the town. Now the idea of doing a three-pete makes me want to curl up under the covers with a romance novel and a mug of Sleepytime Herbal Tea (I have a busy day tomorrow!) My friends and I have had many a conversation about our decreasing tolerance for college party life. By this time next year, I expect that our three-petes will consist of a daytime trip to Atlantic City, a Friday night movie at the Home, and the 4PM buffet special at the Lobster Shanty. Holla!

Here, Take My Card.

For some time now, probably ever since seeing my dad's Honeywell business cards as a child, I have equated having business cards with being successful. "You mean to say that so many people need to contact you that you can't just write your number down? Woah." More importantly, I equate having business cards with having a job, and for a recent college graduate, that is a success. Well, as of last week, I do not have a job (at least not one that pays me), but i do have business cards!

After receiving someone else's business card at a Philadelphia Film Society event, I quickly decided that I wanted ones of my own, so that I may also hand them out to interested parties. (My sister suggested that I find the highest staircase in the most populated building on campus and 'make it rain,' but I feel I should be more conservative with my cards.) Upon deciding to get them, I went to Vistaprint's site and began designing.

Note to would-be adults: Vistaprint is really good for business cards. You can design 250 two-sided card for $15. Or allow them to put their logo on the back and it'll be free!

As I indeed judge people by their business cards, I knew that this was a big step. People (myself included) judge appearances and a business card could be your first impression. Neurotic, yes. False, no. So, I tried my best to make mine tasteful, yet unique. I think they came out quite well. Now all I have to do is wait for someone who wants to hire me. I look forward to the day when the person on the receiving end of "Here, take my card." is not a blood relative or a roommate.