Throwing a birthday party in NYC was far more challenging than any birthday party I ever threw at college. At Syracuse you only had to choose between throwing your party at one of four bars. And considering the bars were all frequented by stereotypical groups, it was usually an obvious decision.

But in the city I had to choose between one billion bars. Did I want to go to a pricey club? A dive bar? A 24-hour Chinese buffet? How could I possibly compare the  bouncers-behind-velvet-rope-experience and an endless-supply-of-General-Tso’s-Chicken-experience? I eventually chose a bar-lounge that was described as chill and uptight at the same time. Which was perfect because I was planning on wearing a skin tight dress with converse sneakers.

Not only was the party planning more difficult than ever, but the gift requesting got complicated as well. Last year I asked my parents for a miniature pony and a 100 inch flat screen installed on my ceiling. But this year I had long debates with myself about whether I should be practical (money to buy groceries) or ridiculous (money to buy a live-in maid). I alternated my practical and fantastical requests among the relatives; I’m now the proud owner of a CVS gift certificate and the heart of the ocean featured in Titanic.

However, despite all the hardships of turning 23, I’m happy to be starting a new year. While 22 was full of amazing memories, stealing stories, and walks of shame (refer to my Senioritis blogs), it was also full of unemployment, living with my grandparents, and a general feeling of loneliness (refer to my first 15 Life After College blogs).

This is a new year. I’m a writer living in NYC, blogging about my life. I’m practically Carrie Bradshaw minus the West Village apartment, high salary, designers, sex stories and the ability to start every narrative recap with “Later that day, I got to thinking.”

So while the birthday party planning might have been a little harder, I’m hoping the whole “getting older” will make living  and surviving a whole lot easier.

Week after week (after week after week…), CollegeCandy and our pal John bring you some of the weirdest, funniest, and saddest things he hears on his college campus. And we know he’s not the only one who hears this stuff. Join the Overheard revolution! Listen in on some weirdos’ conversations and share them in the comments or send ‘em over to us to put in next week’s post.

(Woman, to her son, in a CVS.)

Mom: Look! Thanksgiving! You’re not scared of Thanksgiving, right?

Kid: Waaaah!

(Two students in an education class.)

Student 1: One of my girls spelled “pennies” wrong today. I was laughing way too hard to correct her.

Student 2: The funny part will be when she’s working with the national treasury. ‘The most outdated part of our financial system is the penis!’

(Woman in a breakfast restaurant.)

Woman: Look! It’s the chronosaur! He’s a time-traveling dinosaur who fixes history’s mysteries!

(Two girls, talking in a clothing store.)

Girl 1: Nothing about your butt makes sense.

Girl 2: The laws of physics hate my butt.

(Girls meeting up in the morning.)

Girl 1: What’d you do last night?

Girl 2: Not much. Watched a lot of the Batman animated series. Felt a lot of inappropriate things.

(Girl, talking to her boyfriend.)

Girl: I don’t really care about you. I just need to leech out your warmth.

(Guy, talking to a girl at a party.)

Girl: It’s so cold!

Guy: You know, you’re only cold because women don’t actually produce any body heat. It’s true.

Girl: Geez, really? Wow.

Guy: I know. Crazy.

(Guys, early in the morning, at breakfast.)

Guy 1: If I have to get woken up forcefully, at least it’s by someone yelling ‘wanna play Dungeons and Dragons?’

Guy 2: You should be glad I didn’t just poop on your head. I wanted to.

(Guy, stopping people outside an apartment.)

Guy: Wait! You can’t go in here!

Guy 2: What?

Guy: You’re not a resident of Bell Town! Strangers aren’t allowed in ever since the monster attacked!

(Guy, greeting another guy.)

Guy: Hey, man! Happy birthday! I drank all your vodka and passed out.

I DON'T WANNA GROW UPPPPP

While most people begin planning their birthday celebrations months in advance and turn the entire birthday month into a party all about them, the thought of my November birthday is making me ill. Instead of spending my back-to-school days partying with my friends at football tailgates and planning my Halloween costume, I’m having near-panic attacks about my impending b-day.

Why? Because I’m turning 20 and it is scaring the crap out of me.

I haven’t always been afraid of my birthday. When I was a wee tween, I was so excited to turn 14 I had a countdown on my wall. I was constantly reading books that made it seem like the age to be. The girls seemed so sophisticated and mature, usually because they were dealing with things like getting their first kiss (which I coincidentally got when I was 14…I knew it would be an awesome age). Getting older was exciting, too. There were so many great perks that came with a new year: higher allowance, driver’s license, R-rated movies. But then I turned 18 and all the scary changes that came with that age threw me for a loop.

I was filled with anticipation about going to college and starting a new part of my life, but I was also depressed that the life I had known was coming to an end. So, as a way of dealing with that, I half-jokingly, half-I’m-so-dead-serious-it’s-not-even-funny denied my birthday. I just pretended it wasn’t going to happen. People would ask me “What do you want for your bithday?” and I was all, “Uh, no thanks, it’s kind of just not coming around this year.”

And the big 2-0 is worse. Sure, I’m one step closer to legal drinking, but I’m also one year closer to having to fully take responsibility for every aspect of my life. And I’m scared that my adult life is just going to stop being fun.

I can’t see myself being fulfilled with just a job, husband, and kids. I know my idea of fun will mature – after all, there was a time when all I wanted to do was dress up in my Belle dress and recite the dialogue, verbatim, as I watched Beauty and the Beast on VHS. But knowing this doesn’t mean it doesn’t scare the bejeezus out of me.

I love who I am now, and I adore how my life is. I’m nervous it’s going to go by too quickly. Right now, the possibilities for my life seem endless. I’m just beginning to discover what I’m capable of, and what the world may have in store for me. It’s the most exhilarating feeling I’ve ever had, and I want to hold on to it for as long as possible.

We’ve all heard it before: “Enjoy college! Best years of my life, I tell ya, went by way too fast.” I can practically see the wistful longing for those days of debauchery in the speakers’ glazed-over eyes. Another year and another birthday means another step closer to being that person.

Even though it’s difficult, I’m trying to embrace the fact that I’m getting older. I’m sure some amazing things will come with age so I’m doing my best to look to the future, not the past.  More importantly, I’m trying to realize that getting older doesn’t mean I have to stop enjoying life. I don’t have to be some married lady with kids and a garden; I’m going to be one of those really active old women who climbs mountains and radiates joie di vivre. Either that or I’ll be some old creeper, hustling my way into college parties to take body shots with the freshmen.

What about you, fabulous readers? Are you excited to get older? Dreading it? Or are you experiencing a whirlwind of confusing emotions when it comes to aging?

During my first few years of college, I spent my summers working at a resort.  It was good administrative experience and the night life was amazing.  Also, because I was well under 21, it helped that most of the bars didn’t card (and the bartenders were amenable to some flirtation and tipping in lieu of my ID).  My days were spent hanging out in an air conditioned office while my friends and coworkers slaved away in ridiculously hot restaurants and golf courses.  My nights were spent at aforementioned bars (and anywhere else there was alcohol).

It just so happened that my second summer of resort work commenced shortly before my 19th birthday.  This meant a weekend of awesomeness (especially because the tourist season hadn’t really started yet and we were all bored and ready to party).  My birthday started nicely enough, with trips to the ice cream store and a picnic on the beach with my friends.  Later that night we spruced up and headed out to the bar with my favorite bartender, where we all agreed we would be celebrating my 22nd birthday (we picked my 22nd because the summer before I was drinking in the bars and was considered at least 21…obvs).

My “22nd” birthday was definitely a success.  We had half the bar to ourselves and ordered massive amounts of drinks and food.  It was supremely enjoyable.  But then it started getting late and people started peacing out.  I wasn’t ready to leave yet, so I parked myself on a bar stool and had the bartender mix me random pink frothy things he made up on the spot (deeeelish).  It just so happened that a cute guy was sitting right next to me.  There was talking, laughing, drinking, and some concrete sexual signals flying back and forth between us.  When my last set of friends were leaving they asked if I was coming with and I decided to stay.  About five minutes after this decision, I started thinking that I didn’t want to be by myself in a bar with a strange guy, so I packed up and hijacked it out of there.

Instead of going home like I most definitely should have (especially looking back now….), I took my drunk ass on a stalking mission to find my ex-boyfriend.  Which ended up with me watching Top Gun with a bunch of German guys I’d never met in the same apartment complex he used to live in. Stalk fail.  After about an hour of my drunken attempts at German, I left. But keeping with the theme of the evening (bad decisions), I went back to the bars. And who should still be wandering the streets at this hour? The guy I met at my birthday celebration.  He was obviously excited to see me again and asked if I wanted to go to an after-party at his place.  Obviously another bad decision, but it was my birthday and I deserved at least four more drinks and some cake.  He promised me cake.

Well, I didn’t get any cake, but I did have sex.  Really embarrassing, awkward, loud sex.  As in he was loud and I was embarrassed and the whole thing was awkward because his bed was about six inches from his roommate’s bed (and his roommate was sleeping soundly when we stumbled in to his apartment).  He kept grinning maniacally and saying, “Happy Birthday, baby.”

Oh my… and he had seemed so normal at the bar!

The next morning, he had to work early so he jumped out of bed to get ready and assured me I could stay the whole day.  Seeing how his roommate would be there, too, and was probably very aware of my embarrassing hookup, I wanted to leave as soon as possible.  So, the walk of shame commenced and I comforted myself with the fact that I never had to see this guy again.  Or so I thought…

It turns out that when I got a new roommate halfway through the summer, she was dating that guy (who, thankfully, I hadn’t seen since my birthday).  And she had been dating him when he was wishing me a happy birthday naked.  Awesome.

At least Scotland has the Edinburgh Festival; here in the States, August is the month where summer days go to die, and when poor little children have to put down their toys and go back to school.

BUT, I’m here to tell you it doesn’t have to be all bad; we’re just going to make the best of it. And it’s really not hard. There’s lots goin’ on in August.  Like cheese? It’s National Goat Cheese Month. Wanna be like Tiger Woods? National Golf Month. Starting your own business? Home Business Month and National Inventors Month. August doesn’t have to be all bad.

Aug 1- MTV Debuted
On this day in 1981, music videos found their home on the instantly-popular, new music channel: MTV. As you know, they’ve expanded now to not only include music (or, should I say, not include music at all), but reality shows as well. Get your 15 seconds (or an entire season) of fame by being on the Real World, which is casting right now! Or if the 24/7 camera-in-the-face non-stop-drama lifestyle doesn’t appeal to you, then apply for Made or True Life, both of which have considerably less screaming and flashing.

Aug 2 – National Ice Cream Sandwich Day
Ok, these may not be in sandwich form, but custom-made, mix-your-own ice cream?! I SCREAM FOR ICE CREAM.

Aug 12- Middle Children’s Day (who knew it existed? And does this mean us middle kids can finally get the love and attention we deserve?!)
Aug 13- International Left-Handers Day

Aug 15 - International Homeless Animals Day
Observed on the third Saturday of August every year, this day promotes the safety and well-being of animals, which you can be a part of by attending a vigil, or simply lighting a candle. Or, if you’re really feeling charitable, you can head to a local shelter and bring a puppy home! Those are allowed in the dorms, right?

Aug 19- Bill Clinton’s birthday
Aug 21- Ramadan begins
Aug 22- Be An Angel Day (Do what you will with this one…)
Aug 24- Strange Music Day
Aug 26- National Dog Day
Aug 27- Mother Teresa’s birthday

Aug 28- Dream Day
Martin Luther King Jr. gave the “I Have a Dream” speech in 1963 and inspired the world to follow his example. Dare to dream.

Aug 31- National Trail Mix Day
Just like ice cream- mix your own at YouBar!

Of course, there is also the whole back to school thing, and while studying doesn’t sound like fun, Welcome Week does!

[Every week, CC and John bring you some of the weirdest, funniest, saddest things he hears on his college campus. Join the Overheard revolution!Leave your own overheard convos in the comments or send ‘em over!]

(A crazy guy on campus trying to sell joke books.)

Crazy guy: Does college make you want to sh*t your pants?

Scared freshman: Um … no?

(A professor, reminiscing in-class.)

Professor: I just, you know, kinda grab nearby papers sometimes. I have many squirrel-like tendencies. That’s what my mom said.

(Girl, angry, on the phone.)

Girl: … because you’ve got the personality of a tennis ball! A tennis ball with acne!

(Girl, complaining to her friends.)

Girl: I mean… okay, how often do two sorority chicks turn into one Asian guy named Steve?

(Students reading papers.)

Guy 1: Oh, cool. Campus Cargo Cults for Christ. Check it out.

Guy 2: Oh, woah! Seriously?

Guy 1: No, dumbass.

Guy 2 (crestfallen): Oh. Too bad.

(Girl, poking her head out of a bathroom door)

Girl: Hey! Does anyone want to join me in the bathroom?

(Professor and students in a class.)

Professor: Are you going to be taking a seat?

Guy (leaning on windowsill): Nah, I think I’m fine here.

Professor: Okay. You know, you’re going to do great things.

(Guy, at a birthday party.)

Birthday Guy: I can’t believe I’m 23. It’s like, this … this pudding, right here, with a cookie in it. That’s 23. Cookie pudding.

(Two guys on an apartment balcony.)

Guy: It’s true. Watch this. (Yelling.) I JUST JIZZED ON A BOAT! (Turns back to friend.) See? I’m totally safe.

(A woman, on the phone in the parking lot.)

Woman: I don’t want my neighbors to think I’m creepy. All I do is sit in my car and smoke boys up.

(Girl and guy, yelling in a noisy gym.)

Girl: Woman climbers usually use their legs more, since they don’t have the same arm strength.

Guy: Yeah. Oh, I get it. You guys always need to be tied up.

Girl: Excuse me?

Guy: Sorry, I’m not sure what you said.

(Two guys, walking through campus.)

Guy 1: You eating anything exciting tonight?

Guy 2: Nah, you know. I’m gonna wrestle a manatee.

[One of the greatest aspects of college life is the morning-after recap with friends. You stumble out of bed, grab your liquid of choice, and gather around the living room to replay (and remind yourself of) the events of last night. You laugh, you cringe and you share the highest of highs...and the rock-bottom lowest of lows. We thought we'd bring the fun of the recap to CollegeCandy, so grab that coffee and take part in the deliciously awkward moments your CC friends have to share.]

I’ll put it plainly: On my 19th birthday, I made it my duty to get really, really drunk. It was my freshman year at school, and my parents had come up for the weekend and taken a few of my closest friends out to celebrate with us. Naturally, as is often customary when mom and dad are footing the bill, the wine was flowing for a good two hours. By the time we finished dinner and got back to campus I had a great buzz, and we made our way to our friend’s apartment where a party was being thrown in my honor.

A kid that I had been hooking up with lived in the apartment along with nine other guys, and as the night went on we starting flirting a lot and it seemed like I would end up spending the night. I was really excited that he was paying attention to me – so excited that I didn’t even care when I dropped my new cell phone in the toilet. (I’ll always owe one of my best friends for sticking her hand into my pee and extracting my shiny pink Motorola Razor… Since that weekend, when talking to my parents, I’ve maintained the argument that one of my friends dropped it into the toilet. They still don’t believe me.)

Anyways, fast forward to the next morning.

I woke up with my best friend’s phone number (the same friend who bravely retrieved my cell phone from the depths of the toilet bowl) scrawled across my stomach. When I opened my eyes I was staring my boy right in the….feet. It just so happens that the guy and I woke up lying HEAD TO TOE in his bed. That’s right. My head was at the bottom of the bed; I had no clothes on, and no recollection of the events that had passed the previous night.

I rolled over and looked to the clear coffee table in the middle of the room. There was a puddle of yellow liquid shining in the morning sunlight. I was later informed that I got out of bed – midway through a make-out session, I might add – and mistook the table for the toilet. Oops. I tried insisting that there was no way that I had done that, and suggested that perhaps he was the one who thought it was a good idea to pee in the middle of his bedroom. I was wrong.

To top it all off, I wasn’t sure exactly what had happened (sexually, if you know what I mean), and had to have the extremely embarrassing conversation in which I “clarified” the night’s activities. “Did we….?” “Condom or no condom?” “Was I good? You know…after the pee pee incident?” You know the deal.

Since the boy still found me attractive enough to hump post table-pee, I figured he was OK with it. A week later, though, I found out that stories of my little peeing problem had been making their way through his group of friends, all of whom were seniors and must have had some great laughs at my expense. To make matters worse, my best friend was dating one of the guys who lived in his house, and my friends and I were always over there. I had to see him (and ignore him) all the time, and was constantly reminded of my shameful birthday behavior.

It was certainly a night to remember, or forget, as the case may be.

You have a story to recap? Email it to Lauren@collegecandy.com and she’ll share it (anonymously, of course) here!

1. The Facebook “Happy Birthday” – I’ve been using FB long enough to know that most people (myself included) rely on it to tell us of important upcoming birthdays. That’s fine. What’s not fine is the sheer amount of people who do not speak to me in person but have no problem wishing me a happy birthday on my wall. Here’s a tip: if were aren’t close enough for you to leave me a witty inside joke, then I don’t want your birthday wishes.

2. Getting Old – I’m old. Really old. I won’t tell you how old (you’ll have to be my FB friend for that….and then randomly wish me a happy birthday every year), but it’s not pretty over here. No more staying up all night to party and feeling great the next day. Now I have to weigh every night out and decide if it will be fun enough to be worth the 3-day hangover that will follow it up. Seriously. I never felt hangovers like this when I was in my prime (20-22). And I hear it’s only worse from here…

3. Big Birthday Parties – My birthday dinner was with 5 of my wonderful friends. I make a rule that I have to be able to talk to everyone at my birthday, otherwise why should they come? I have tons of friends who do the 30-person birthday dinner, or 60-person bar evite. Come on, people. Big birthdays are fine for big moments: 21st, 30th… I know you want to feel special on your birthday, but you don’t need to celebrate with that girl from your Psych study group. Or the T.A.. Or anyone else who only communicate with you through Facebook.

4. No More Presents - “We’re in a recession,” “you’re too old,” blah blah blah. I still want presents!  Don’t get me wrong – I’m grateful for the free shots at the bar, but I want a present that doesn’t leave me sticking my face in the toilet bowl at the end of the night. I want clothes! Toys! Jewelry! (And no, FB gifts don’t count!)

5. Can’t we get some fat free birthday cake by now? It’s 2009!

My only wish was that the next twelve months whizz by so I can finally be 21.

Don’t get me wrong – I was excited that I will no longer be labelled as a teenager. But being 20 still means that I can’t get into most clubs without using my sister’s ID, or drink myself to oblivion (without my sister’s ID).

I’m tired of my friends having to plan their birthdays or events around the fact that I’m not yet 21 and can’t get into a 21 and above club. Sure, some clubs don’t check IDs when the bouncers think you look older, but  I’m a 20 year old who looks like a 16 year old, so there’s no way that works for me. And the few times I tried, I spent the whole time stressing about whether the bouncer would notice that I wasn’t looking him in the eye, or wearing layers and layers of makeup that made me look like a drag queen.

Once I did get in, I would be so paranoid that someone would notice that I was under age and would have me kicked out of the club that I never had much fun. Not to mention the fact that nervousness, adrenalin, those disco lights and the 2,000 other sweaty people gyrating on the dance floor created a serious drag makeup meltdown.

So I stopped trying. And now here I am: an adult, yet still a full year away from taking advantage of that new title. And all my friends are out living it up.

I know that there’s nothing I can do to make time move faster, so I guess I will spend the next 12 months convincing my older friends to hang out at home with me. Maybe I should pick up knitting? That’s an adult activity….

Being 20 sucks.

Anyways, this may be the biggest sporting event of the year, but that doesn’t mean it’s my biggest event of the year. Or yours. This week, I asked the CollegeCandy writers to tell us what their “Super Bowl” is every year; their big event, their day to sit around eating guacamole and 7 layer dip. Ok, maybe not the last part, but you get the idea.

What is your Super Bowl?

Amanda – Wagner: Any big celebrity scandal feels like the super bowl to me. When Britney went after the paparazzi with an umbrella… oh my god, I bought every tabloid and read them all in one sitting.

Ashley Elizabeth – CU Boulder: That one day when you get all dressed up and that boy finally notices!

Marissa – High School Senior: The first day of summer. Summer solstice kicks off the season of no school, my birthday, the beach, warm weather…did I mention no school?

K – GWU: Definitely going to a rave. Best flipping time of my entire life and I want to epically return once a year.

Madison – Puget Sound: The post-Christmas sale week. You know, when everywhere from Target to Nordstrom has everything that you wanted (but didn’t get) for Christmas, but for super cheap. Amazing.

Maddie – Tufts: For me (and this is embarrassing…) my “super bowl” is my birthday. I’ve been making a big deal out of it since I was young enough to care, and I don’t plan on stopping any time soon. Who doesn’t want to be the birthday princess??

Lauren – University of Michigan: The morning after I actually get some and can sit around with my girls and talk about it over and over again.

Donnette – Manhattanville College: My one big trip.  I love to travel and it usually takes me a year to save up enough money and time to plan for a really great trip.

Laura – St. Johns: The first warm day of spring when I can finally break out my flip flops!  After being stuck inside boots all winter long, my toes love some fresh air.

Brithny – Duke University: Definitely Chinese New Year! Yummy homemade food, noisy firecrackers, and little red hong bao’s with money inside…what could be better? Btw, Happy Year of the Ox!

John – UConn: The John Bowl begins around December 15 and lasts through New Years’ Day. Isn’t that just Christmas? Yes! It is! The food, the food, the friends and the food. And the presents! And the joy and laughter and sledding and mulled cider with brandy and the food. If I could find a way to inject the Charlie Brown Christmas special into my veins, I would.

Leah – Ryerson University: Calgary Stampede!  Means being at home, drinking obscenely without being considered an alcoholic and getting to dress western for 10 days straight and not looking like a fool.

Julia – UC Berkeley: Game Days!!!! Especially our rivalry game.  Drinking mimosas at 7 AM and dancing so much that you forget to go to the game?  Best day ever, if you ask me.

Kari – FSU: My Superbowl is HANDS DOWN March 17th, the day I pay thanks to St. Patrick for freeing my homeland of snakes by drinking beer that turns my mouth green.

Sarabeth – University of Texas: Austin City Limits Music Festival!!! Hooray for three day passes!

CJ – UConn: My annual 21st birthday party.

Alex – Lakehead University: Traveling! I make a point of going on at least one big trip every year! Two years ago was Mazatlan, Mexico a month tour of Europe in an RV (ya…I know), last year was Scotland and England. This year, I’m going to New York City in March and, political unrest permitting, Thailand for August!

Sara C- Fordham: This doesn’t happen every year, but I go into full-scale party mode during the Olympics. I am the world’s greatest Olympics superfan (freak alert, I know), and I have people over almost every night to watch and eat pizza. To me, two weeks of the world’s best athleticism is waaay more exciting than some football game. Sorry. boys.