While living with my grandparents has its perks (unlimited prune juice), it also has its downside (the only available beverage is prune juice). And even though I’m in the biggest city in the world, I’ve never felt more alone. There’s nothing more depressing than coming home from work and seeing people your age having crazy amounts of fun together, and knowing the only thing that awaits you is hearing the latest CNN updates from your grandfather.

So when my friend said she was having a graduation party in Boston, I jumped at the chance to go. Too bad I didn’t jump fast enough and all the tickets on the good bus were sold out. I wasn’t going to miss a weekend with my friends, though, so despite reading reviews of late, overbooked, and nonexistent buses, I booked a seat on the discount line. Not only did the bus show up on time but it was also double decker! Which was good, because the thought of arriving to Boston unemployed and in a single decker bus was just beyond embarrassing.

My friends picked me up at the bus and we went straight out to the bars. I don’t know how I went from being able to drink for ten hours straight just a month ago to not being able to stay awake past midnight now, but it wasn’t pretty. I feel like I’m aging in dog years; every month out of college is seven months of adulthood. By the end of the summer I won’t be able to go to happy hour without putting in my dentures first. Read More »

I remember my college graduation like it was yesterday. After a group of my friends threw an open bar graduation party for family and friends the night before, I woke up graduation morning hungover, naked and confused about  my whereabouts. I rolled over to find myself lying next to the first college friend I made at orientation.

“Fitting,” I thought to myself. Then I grabbed my clothes (all but one shoe…which I told myself I could live without) and ran out the door. If I didn’t get home soon, I would be late for graduation.

I hailed a cab on the corner of the street and hopped in. On the short ride back to my house, I passed families all dressed up for the great moment that was their son/daughter/grandchild/cousin/brother/sister’s graduation. I looked down at the clothes I wore the night before and the unidentified scars that can only come from a night of heavy drinking on someone else’s tab.

“Fitting,” I thought to myself again. Read More »