The sun rises in the East

It's the last night before the first day of school of my last semester of my first real true grown-up experience.

And it feels weird. And that's not just because I have tears in my eyes from the margaritas or the flaming hot cheetos or because my beautiful new computer is scratched.

My private school has lots of rules the most immediate being: no drinking. This means that tonight is the last night I can drink until the end of December. Talk about a sobering thought. (Yes, I know, I'm hilarious).

I've spent considerable time on the internet finding out exactly how I can fix my computer. There are several options ranging from $20 to $100. I think I'll try the $20. Maybe go for the $100 in January. We'll see.

January when I can drink again and when I will be in a new phase. A welcome phase, an anticipated phase, an awaited phase. A phase I cannot talk about except in hushed voices or in secret rooms. Rooms where the fan is on high.

For someone who only tasted alcohol for the first time six days ago I sure have become attached. And for someone who has yet to feel any effects I sure have become forlorn. I'm not sure why I'm so sad about the forthcoming prohibition. At first I thought it had to do with my freedom but I think it has more to do with my ignorance of the effects and my desire to be knowledgeble.

In the meantime, I will be taking several neccessary-to-graduate classes (see below), working full-time and excitedly learning more about January and everything after.

While I did begin my first real-life-grown-up experience three years ago, they've multiplied tenfold. I'm so very happy about this transition in my life right now today. And if that means sitting around with my roommates drinking margaritas and watching T.V. instead of studying French or reading C.S. Lewis or plotting my own demise, so be it.

These moments only last so long. And then the tequila's gone and classes have begun.