What's So Special About 22?

A few days after the new year, I celebrated my 22nd birthday. Since I was home for winter break, I had a big dinner party. Everyone brought food, and it was fantastic. Most of you were probably there, or have seen all the pictures from that night, so I won't post them again here.

However, Karen's 21st birthday was during the break as well, and while being at home with your friends on your birthday is the absolute best way to spend it, we were kind of bummed that in our 4 years of college, we hadn't once been in Boston for our birthdays.

So upon our arrival back to school, we decided to re-celebrate our birthdays Boston style. We figured, why not throw a sequal?? And so, "Evan and Karen and the Chamber of Secrets" was born. The pictures throughout this post come from this night.














For our re-birthday party, we headed to a bar called Common Ground, where every Friday night is "My So Called 90s" night, and the DJ spins Spice Girls, Real McCoy, LaBouche, Jock Jams....you get the idea: the greatest musical decade of alllll time.



























I soon got to thinking about what this birthday means to me. I mean, 22. Big deal. Double Deuces. Awesome.

Society has given certain turning points to just about every birthday, but no one seems to get excited about 22. It's like you mention certain years and everyone on Earth chimes in with one or more of the following:

1: Oh My God! You're 1!
2: Terrible 2s watch out!
3: Potty Training and Pre-school.





























6: You finally stop picking your nose and eating it.
7: Time for the sex talk...right? Oh man, what a day THAT was.
10: DOUBLE DIGITS!!!! AAAHHHHHHHH!!!!





























12: Oh my god you'll be a TEEN soon.
13: Go buy some Stridex pads, pizza face.
14: My cycle started.... what... I was a late bloomer.





























16: "Heyyyyyy tell everyone you know to stay off the roads" -Everyone's uncle ever.
18: Lottery - porn - cigarettes - morning after pills (LIFE SAVERS, trust me)
20: NOT A TEENAGER ANYMORE
21: Car renting, here I come.

And 22. No one has anything to say about 22. It's after 21, and therefore will always be in its gloriously drunk shadow. And it isn't quite 25, which is when you have your first gigantic life epiphany/crisis. Can't wait!

Anyway, the re-birthday party was a huge succcess. Karen and I had such a great night, but it's really the people who came out to celebrate who made it happen. And the presence of Chumbawumba. I'm starting to think it should be my re-birthday every weekend.

Classes have started, and I'm taking some cool ones. I think this is what college is supposed to feel like. History of the Beatles, American Folklore/Urban Legends, Shoelaces. You know, the really difficult stuff.

I'm going to spend the coming semester trying to figure out what's sooo special about being 22. And when I do, I'll get back to you. Feel free to leave comments or suggestions. Until then.... BLING!















Peace out.

-ev