I couldn’t shake the funny feeling being back in college, it was even more so being at a school other than my own. I spent the last few days celebrating one of my best friends, Rachel’s 21st birthday! This is the first 21st that I have celebrated as I put up such a poor show at my own—I have decided that mine does not count as a true 21st celebration at all. But back to the weekend at hand, being the all around theme for this year and for the rest of my life for that matter, this weekend was full of firsts for me, some expected and some otherwise.
For starters I drove to Boston, I did not make a plan for my trip, I left my car in the hands of a stranger for the weekend, and attended an opera, this all in the first few hours of arriving! The opera was my favorite of this particular list of firsts. I have always enjoyed theatre, especially the production side, as I stage-managed while in high school, which is where I met Rachel my Stage Management majoring friend, and the stage manager for this particular show. She has been telling me for years how wonderful operas are and as much as I wanted to believe her I never could bring myself to. I just couldn’t see how I was going to understand and appreciate watching a show in a language I can’t speak. Being the writing major and book lover that I am as well as the hopeless romantic why I thought words had to be spoken in English rather than French or Italian to carry a message that I could comprehend who knows, but this is not the first nor I am sure will it be the last that I am so utterly and completely wrong. I was brought near to tears by the universal translation of love and longing brought to life by the performers. Love is a language not of words.
Art museums have always puzzled me. Am I that unappreciative and uncultured? Am I the only one who walks through an art exhibit and notices first the frames rather than what lies within them? I cannot be the only one who put ill at ease by the utter silence nor the only one who believes that art needs room to breathe. I have always found art exhibits and museums confining and constrictive. I want to experience art, not view it from behind glass, but regardless of all of this I went to the Boston Museum of Fine Arts while Rachel went to work for a few hours and did stumble upon a piece or two that did move me.
With work and museums out-of-the-way the birthday celebration began with a trip to Harvard Square, the Worlds Only Curious George Store, and the purchase of Rachel’s first legal drink at lunch! The festivities continued later that night at the local bar where we met up with a bunch of Rachel’s friends for margaritas, nachos, and tequila shots! Now my dear friend Rachel is quite petite at all of 110 pounds but that girl can hold her own! After, well lets just say quite a bit more than I could drink and still form coherent thoughts we stumbled our way home, quite the celebration success!
Rachel somehow managed to get up and to class, with absolutely no hangover by 9am which I think is quite impressive! I on the other hand slept in and after lunch with her once she returned from class, made my way back to NY where I have been sleeping and watching movies ever since. As much as it pains me to say it all I kept thinking was, I am getting too old for this. And how sad is that, at 21 how can I be too old for anything?! And the truth of the matter is I’m not, it just sure as hell feels like it after being out of school for 7 months.