The 21st

I’m going to a party tonight. Not just any party, but a 21st birthday party. It’s a Big Deal here – kind of a rite of passage. Basically, as far as I understand, it’s a fantastic excuse for a massive piss-up. I’m not sure of the significance of “21”, really. Why not 20 or 22? As far as I know, there’s nothing major that happens to an Australian at 21 that is cause for celebration. Although, as my mate Lisa said today, “Australians will take any excuse for a party and run with it”.

People fondly look back and remember the events of their 21st birthdays – how so-and-so did such-and-such there, and where it was, how much they had to drink, what they did the next day, what interesting drugs were taken, all of that. It’s like a memory-making ritual. “Aha! You’re 21 now – let’s make some memories and start your life off!” It’s an Event.

This will be interesting too, because I’m not 21 anymore. I’m actually closer to 31 than I am to 21. Yeesh. I just scared myself there. I haven’t partied down with 21-year-olds for a little while now. I never used to think like this: they’re 21. They’re just people too. Will they think of me as some old guy? What did I think of older people when I was 21? Is that really such a good question to ask, considering how weird I was (and still am)?

I don’t even know what I did on my 21st, my life documentation stuff from that period of time is in a box back in Vancouver. Hm. (Doing some math…) I was still at SET-BC, I was probably seeing Catherine at the time. I really don’t remember.

I’m going to take my camera, of course, and will probably take a bunch of interesting and drunken pictures. Perhaps I should look into adding a photo gallery to my site.

Enough of this! I’m going to be late.