Nineteen.

So now I'm nineteen. Somehow I don't feel any different. It's nice to be able to go and have alcohol in a public place, but at the same time I still feel kinda like someone's going to come up to me and say "hey, you can't be drinking in here!" or something. I went to the liquor store on my lunch break yesturday and got a case of Guinness (cans) that came with a glass (it says Guinness on it and is so pretty and fits exactly one can of Guinness in it! It is love.) and a bottle of Captain Morgan Spiced Rum (as reccomended by sailors everywhere, or at least a few that I trust, and rightly so it turns out.). They didn't card me. Although I did have a good conversation with the cashier about our pentagrams. This is in some ways disappointing and in others very cool. On the way out of the store though it started raining in a torrential downpour because I had taken my raincoat, which had been in my bag for the past three or four weeks, out in order to fit in more booze. The rain was lovely, but I was soaked to the skin in less than thirty seconds.

I did get carded when we went to the Brew Pub for dinner, which was decidedly not exciting, but the Cran Apple Cider was delicious. A little sweet, but very smooth.

I didn't really get drunk though because all my friends seemed to be orking the next day and thus weren't drinking at all. I still drank twice as much as everyone else, was buzzed and happy with crazy conversation.

L: "So you had a twenty-five-year-old party, instead of a nineteen-year-old one?"
Me: "Well, I've always been precocious child."

So now I'm tired (because we did stay up late even though we weren't all that drinky) and I've got a family dinner tonight (salivating at the thought of roast beef) and all of Smoke and Ashes to read (thank you R and D!).