Gustave Courbet's got the idea.
So, for the past few days I've been complaining that this is the worst birthday I've ever experienced. 21 is supposed to mean something, right? It's the year that marks entrance into adulthood; it's the year that some kids start drinking legally even though they've been drinking for years before that anyways. It's a time of celebration and family and friends and blah blah blah. For me it was shit- I basically waded knee-deep in my own self pity until I went to a friend's Old Year's Night (or New Year's Eve if you're American-also incidentally my birthday) party and had fun with the vodka and the hors d'oeuvres...
