Young, Wild and Free

Here goes the obligatory birthday reflection.

My 21st year of existence, as I prefer to call it, was a huge terrible hangover. A year-long hangover, both literally and figuratively speaking. It was as if I gulped two (or maybe three) bottles of Vodka coupled with a case of beer and I-couldn't-remember-alcohol-blah-blah on New Year's Eve and forgot where I put my sanity the morning after (in which case the morning after meant the rest of the year).

It was a fog of good and bad memories, but mostly bad, of which I refuse to think about now. I was 21 and most of the time, high and drunk. I was 21 and I thought the world was for me for the taking. I was 21 and I didn't know any better. (Of course, I thought I knew better at the time. Who am I kidding?) I made bad choices and stupid decisions which resulted in a series of unfortunate events that I call my life. (I know that now, thank you.)

It started with me ditching my first job for the search of The Great Perhaps, which turned out to be, well, The Great Ellipsis of the year. Then, I thought I was in love with a man I never really liked. And then, law school happened but it didn't really happen (I dare you to make sense of that.) And everything went downhill from there.

I whined about it, but I'd like to think that I shut off some well-meaning people in my life. I became this massive ball of despair and hopelessness. But thanks to beer and friends (or friends and beer, whichever comes first) who listened to my repetitive rants about frustrations over life and the choices I made. They kept my insanity to a minimum level.

To say that I drank the year away was an understatement. And no, don't mistake me for an alcoholic. I was not and never will be an alcoholic. (Oh shit! That's what alcoholics say.) I spent most of my nights in misery and most of my days nursing a hangover. But the thing was, I 'moved on' with my life. I struggled everyday with high hopes and crooked optimism that everything shall pass as it should.

And it did. It actually did when I finally decided it should end. My ultimate realization was the cliche--it was only up to me.

Everything is a decision, even the decision to drown in misery or to shrug it off and learn from it. The result may not be what I expect, but there must be some wisdom in it. There's got to be something from it for me. In this case, I learned how to overcome defeat and frustrations. I learned to make the most out of the lemon. Get the Vodka, drink, and get on with what I currently have. That's how life is. I cannot always get what I want, but I can always give it my best drunken shot. I know that sounds too Mitch Albom-ish or Legally Blonde-ish or whatever inspirational shit you have there, but whatever.

The year 2011 wasn't the best year to count. I had my shares of wrong turns and detours, but I think I am where I should be at the moment. Being 21 sucked, but it was quite a learning experience. Cheers to being reckless, drunk, and most especially, to being 21.

Now, time to take down that hangover—I am getting high this year.