My 22nd birthday was an excuse to be just-a-little-bit like Taylor for the day. It was my girl-group bracing the 35 degree Ithaca cold to sit outside for my birthday brunch, my law frat brothers threatening to make everyone in Libe Cafe sing happy birthday to me if I spent the day in the library, my parents nailing my birthday present and a shout out at the Nigerian Students’ Association’s Date Auction.
At long last, the fateful day has arrived. Yours truly is 21.
Yes, this is a big moment for all of us. But before you start clogging the phone lines offering me free drinks, let’s take a moment to reflect on what this once-in-a-lifetime event really means.