MARION CONTRARIAN

Every time I print out a poem in one of the computer clusters, somebody ends up mixing it in with their 50-pages of Lexus Nexus stuff. I'd like to see one of them paging through their materials (I confess that I have no idea what Lexus Nexus is all about) and finding a poem of mine, hopefully one with a shocking title. Or at least an overtly poetic title, like ON THE MARE'S BACK SHINING or ALL THE WEDDING PRESENTS. (Fun fact: one of these is actually the title to a poem I wrote a few years ago. Can you guess which?) I can't convince myself that anybody who runs across a poem would read it all the way through, but I do think the occasion would surprise them. Maybe. Maybe I'll distribute all of my work this way.

LEARN TO FORGET

So, my first legal serving of alcohol was a shot of Jaegermeister, on the house, at the Squirrel Hill Cafe. My birthday was really nice, just me and a few friends at the Cage, and a really nice waitress, and that's about it. I feel good and relaxed. No, really!

It seems that my birthday party isn't going to happen because I haven't heard back from Phil at all. It's pretty sad to tell everybody you know about your birthday party only to have to tell them that it's been cancelled. I don't know what's up with that, but I think I would kind of like to just have a chill weekend with my friends rather than a crazy, crazy mess.

Rachel got me Lip Venom for my birthday! Lip Venom is this substance (supposedly made of actual snake venom) that you apply to your lips. Essentially, your lips have a slight allergic reaction to the venom, making them bigger, and ostensibly more beautiful. BEST PRESENT EVER!

YOU WON'T FOOL THE CHILDREN OF THE REVOLUTION

So, it seems reasonable that I'm spending the last few hours of my life as a not-of-legal-drinking-age person in the basement of the library, surrounded by videotapes, videodiscs, and big boxes, because if I were above ground I would probably be pacing around and painting my toenails and bouncing on the bed.

I feel as if I should be saying something conclusive about this passage (first of all, because it's somehow a "passage" instead of a "birthday"), but I can't really figure out what that would be. I mean, I've already done my fair share of drinking. In bars*, no less. What this means, I suppose, is a lot less hassle about going places (like bars) with my friends**, even though that happens much less often than it used to.

Of course, a veritable world of night-time fun opens up to me***, but how much will I care now that it's constantly available?

The only good thing to my mind is finally being able to hang out at the Church Brew Works with Mr. Adam Atkinson, just as we said we would when we were wet-nosed sophomores.

Oh! Also, I'll be able to get into notoriously boring 21+ shows, just in case I want to be softly lulled into oblivion by voice and guitar.

No more pesky "Um, I don't have my driver's license? Because, like, I'm having my passport renewed?" conversations with skeptical bartenders.

No more mortifying, "Um, I can't . . . I'm underage" moments when visiting friends in other cities.

No more even numbers. For a year, at least.

A new license photo which resembles my current look. (That is, I don't look like a 16-year-old raver in this one.)

Adulthood!****

Oh my God. I think somebody's actually entering the video collection. I have to attend to this, stat.*****

*If you're a bouncer, I'm very sorry to break the news to you, but I TOTALLY JACKED you during the last two years.
**Also, I totally lied about being a graduate student. Fooled you again.
***Like, um, RUMSHAKER'S, I guess? And I can go whenever I want.
****In all states. And in Canada, where my shit was already legal anyway.
*****Wait, it's Rachel! And she has a Sephora bag! I <3 my birthday! And Rachel!

THERE WERE THOUSANDS OF THEM

DeLuca's in the Strip District advertises the best breakfasts in town, and damn. Damn. I believe it. I ordered kielbasa, eggs, and homefries, and only finished my kielbasa. Believe me, I'm not usually such a peckish eater, but you should've seen the sausage. Kielbasa is the serious stuff, and this stuff didn't pull any punches. I also now have a huge takeaway container of homefries and scrambled eggs which I will most certainly wolf down as soon as I get home from work.

Listening to: Lungfish, "Necrophones;" Shellac, "1000 Hurts;" X, "Los Angeles;" Guided By Voices, "Under the Bushes Under the Stars." So, grungy and dark with a little uncontrollable upbeat Ohiocore pop. Of course. I'm getting older all the time.