This is getting ridiculous.

Another night, another time getting left behind by my friends for the bars. Such is the life of the 20 year old.

I am one of those unfortunate souls who has been and will be 20 for the entirety of their junior year of college. At this point in the year, it’s really quite annoying. For example:

Friend: “OMG like 4 days until I turn 21!”

Me: “Awesome, I still have 3 months.”

One by one, my friends have turned 21 this year. Each 21^st birthday “pregame before stumbling to the Phyrst” I attend makes me want to put my head through a wall.

I’d say 95% of my friends that I consistently hang out with are 21, and they seem really attached to some of the lovely drinking establishments State College has to offer.

Generally, there are two directions my weekend nights have been going lately.

Me (to my roommates, who are all 21): “Hey guys, what are you doing tonight?”

Roommates: “Bars probably, sorry dude.”

“That’s Ok,” I think to myself. “I have plenty of friends who will want to hang out with me!”

I send out a few texts. “Bars” is the response.

After these setbacks, if I can’t lock down any plans that don’t involve the word “bar”, what follows should never be witnessed by anyone. Normally, I’ll proceed to drink a 12-pack (that my roommate had to buy for me), watch Family Feud, and eat $16 worth of Yummy Café (Bourbon Chicken for the win) to make myself feel better.

The second outcome basically consists of walking 10+ blocks downtown (I live 4 blocks past Atherton on West College) to the Beaver Canyon area, hanging out with friends for an hour or two, then getting bailed on for — you guessed it — the bars.

As State College experienced nice weather over the past few weeks, people have been more willing to hang out with a lowly 20-year old minion like myself (except for a few afternoon hours at Café 210). Plus, the semester is nearly over. Everyone is broke and relegated to drinking 40’s at houses and apartments instead of pre-gaming with Pinnacle or some gross flavored Vodka than spending $40 at Pickles. It’s been a long, arduous year, but my time to spend entirely too much money at the bars will come soon enough.

Sorry you had to read me complain for over 400 words, but I know there are students who can sympathize with my trivial problems. With that said, let me offer this:

“OMG 35 DAYS UNTIL I TURN 21!”