Alot of people will tell you stories like, "Yeah, when my kid sister hit 21 I took her out and got her hammered like nobody else could and then taught her how to piss by the side of the road without hitting her shoes, throw up without wrecking her hair or lipstick, and then taught her the secret hang over cure over a greasey breakfast the next morning as we took a body count to see who stuck it out with us and who would get the full postmortem of the events over the phone and an additional few months of ribbing at not being able to hang with the big dogs!" My little sister is bulking at the idea of going to dinner at Applebees with myself and a few friends. Not interested! She didn't even want to crack open a bottle of wine she'd been mockingly saving for the day she turned 21 since winning it at a baby shower in April. What is wrong with this kid?! Could she be untradtional? Maturing? Uninterested? What is up with this?! Isn't it a rite of passage?!

Now, my 21st was nothing spectacular but it was atleast fun. To show my age, a newcommer named 50cent just put out a song that had the lyrics "Go shorty, it's your birthday. We're gonna party like it's your birthday." which was played over and over again during the course of the evening which was spent at a local dive called "The Rusty Spur" where we drank alcoholic beverages (I believe Smirnoff Ices were involved) and danced like idiots, stole a few shot glasses to commemorate the evening and went on our merry ways. Not to say we didn't party, but we had fun in other ways!

I suppose looking back, although little did I know that in 2 short years into the future my birthday would be spend a few weeks shy of giving birth, that it wasn't the way I spent my birthday but who and how the fun happened. So if my little sis wants to play it up with some hardcore ice cream cake and a singing birthday card from her nephew, who am I to judge.

So Happy 21st Birthday Sambolina! And many a happy returns of the day!