Turning 21 in a place like Prague is a little weird. The only significance that it has back home - the ability to drink legally - is completely lost in Europe. Considering that I think that the Czechs put beer in baby bottles for infants, drinking is definitely imbued in the culture - in fact, it pretty much is the culture. I still had a really good birthday, though, and have the souvenir hangover to prove it.
Woke up to the dulcet tones of the dorm manager yelling at me. Thanks, Petra. Tried to do work in my room because the weather was gross outside, failed when I tried to double-fist wine and coffee (I'M LEGAL EVERYWHERE NOW). Dragged myself to the Globe around 4 p.m. to do my Classroom Europe paper; Becca and Brittany joined me and Kim around 7:30 for a birthday dinner of joy and delight. Stayed there until 10:30 or so and returned to the other dorm, thinking that we'd be going to a gay club or something just for fun, but no, we were destined for the big Erasmus foam party. Donned a lovely workout outfit of t-shirt, shorts and sneakers for the messy, undignified, shameful night that was to come and headed out to SaSaZu.
Foam fell, dignity was lost, and shots were ripped. I turned 21 officially in Eastern Standard Time so now there's no arguing about my age (as my mom insisted, it wasn't my birthday until 12:40 a.m. on May 7), made it back to the other dorm at like 4 and was up at 8 to watch Becca miss her train to Salzburg. Possible best part of the night? Running into my film professor and his wife on the metro while holding an open box of white wine while slightly drunk and wearing workout clothes.
Birthday celebrations continue with London this weekend and BERLIN FOR LADY GAGA!!! on Tuesday.
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