Last Wednesday was my 21st birthday and despite the fact that it fell smack dab in the middle of finals week and that I'm not much of a drinker at all, I decided I couldn't let the momentous occasion pass without having SOME alcohol, right? It seems like a rite of passage sort of thing.

Anyway, I took (and likely failed) my finance final (which I was having serious difficulty caring about) that evening at like 5 and stopped at the grocery store on my way back to the apartment.

From simply being around heavy drinkers (and living with more than a couple), I knew that you could do one of those mix-and-match six-pack dealies with like Smirnoff Ice and Mike's Hard Lemonade and things like that. So I decide that's what I would do.

I felt awkward in the store because I didn't want to look suspicious like I might be underage or anything and I didn't want it to look like it was my first time buying booze, either.

Luckily, it was a bit crowded. Albeit, the crowd consisted of some fairly shadester folks who breathed heavily through the gaps in their teeth.

I found my little mix-and-match thing fairly quickly and filled it with things I was familiar with (again, Mike's and Smirnoff Ice... though I had never tried Mike's) and headed for the check-out, ID in hand.

Naturally, the cashier dude asked me for my license and I handed it over, not making eye contact because I didn't want this big whole to-do because it was my birthday...

But nothing escaped this guy. He gave my ID back without saying anything and then, rather loudly, said "IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY! YOU NEED MORE THAN THIS! IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY!" Which caused the classy people in the liquor store to join in with "OH, WOW! IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY!? HEY, IT'S HER BIRTHDAY!"

There had to be a dozen people there. Some of whom began to treat me to their "When I turned 21..." stories. Others tried to push me in the direction of the hard liquor.

I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me, but the best I could do was blush like the cute boy in math class just brushed my arm and get the heck out of there with my wimpy fruity beer.

Thanks for not making a scene, liquor store guy. I appreciate it.
It's Christmas break and one of the only times I can see old friends from high school who all mostly stayed in state for college. So rarely do private and public school breaks line up.

The list of obligatory but nevertheless enjoyable people to see has shrunk dramatically over four short years and I've simply come to accept the fact that time and distance can put paid to relationships very efficiently.

Still, there are a couple of friends I still make an effort to see.

I went out with one a couple of nights ago. It was snowing heavily which hindered travel and both of us had long forgotten about what there is to do, exactly, in town and where to find it, so we settled on Starbucks for something warm to drink.

I'm not a fan of coffee... or paying through the nose for designer cardboard cups, so I don't spend too much time in Starbucks-es. But I have to say I felt very grown up and rather collegiate sitting there, chatting with an old friend... being astounded at the fact that I felt old enough to HAVE someone to call an "OLD" friend.

She graduated from Colorado State last May and spent most of her time in school hanging out with various extensions of the high school group of friends I had long lost contact with. We talked about all the people who managed to get engaged or married or, even more perplexing, pregnant in the last five years. And about the people who haven't.

She told me of a few girls who have been dating guys semi-long-term who are expecting rings in the immediate future. They have, apparently, given their beaus ultimatums. They've literally given them deadlines by which they have to propose or it's over.

To some extent I can understand why some women feel that way. But older(ish) women. It's that weird "Go or get off the pot" mentality, I suppose. Like, if she's 30 and has been dating a guy for 3 years, I get it. I don't agree with it, exactly, but I get it.

But these girls are 21, 22 years old. I realize dating a guy for a year and a half seems like a lifetime, but, c'mon. We're all so young. How can we really say for sure what we want? And our lives are so crazy right now. We're graduating from college, we're hopefully moving into careers... it's a lot of stress and pressure, so you really want to add more of that volatility onto your relationship? If it's going well now, maybe just let it be that way for a while before things get figured out.

And, I don't know about you, but the idea of kind of "forcing" your boyfriend to propose is horrible to me. If my boyfriend doesn't want to propose on his own accord, doesn't that mean something? Doesn't that mean he's either not ready to be married or doesn't want to marry me? It sounds like enslaving someone in a marriage.

There's one girl who was biding her time and just taking her relationship one day at a time... until she caught a glimpse of the ring box in her boy's dresser drawer. It was his grandmother's ring willed to him to give to the woman he'd spend the rest of his life with. My friend fell instantly in love with it and the pressure has been on for him to propose ever since. Every other word out of her mouth is "engagement" and "wedding" and "proposal." It's sickening.

I don't think relationships should be about ultimatums or striking deals or fancy jewelry. If it's not the right time, it's not the right time. There's nothing wrong with being patient.

The friend who was telling me all this recently broke up with her high school boyfriend of 4.5 years. They had talked about getting engaged, even. But things didn't work so well. That's kind of what happens wen you date a jackass. They went through this horrible break-up that lasted about a year. In the meantime, all these other high school friends are getting married. I'm sure it was rough on her, but she's much better off now. She's too strong and too independent to be tied down at this point in her life and she totally understands that. It feels good to know there's at least one other GIRL out there who doesn't seem consumed by all this madness.
I have to say that A Charlie Brown Christmas is my absolute favorite Christmas movie. There's not much competition, really. Sure, Rudolph and Frosty are ok, I guess, but nothing ever compares to Charlie Brown.

I think it's because Charlie Brown's evident frustration with the overall commercialism of Christmas is something I go through, more or less (and this year MORE) each time the yule tide season rolls around.

Don't get me wrong; I can't find the words to express the joy that Christmastime brings into my heart. But after a couple of weeks the excitement, I guess, or the novelty of it being Christmastime, wears off and I can't handle the same old stupid Christmas songs on the radio or the packed shopping centers full of irate people loaded down with stuff.

I don't mean to be a Scrooge. But it gets depressing to witness. Going out is discouraging.

"Isn't there anybody who knows what Christmas is all about!?" shouts Charlie Brown after his failed pageant rehearsal.

Enter Linus to save the day and offer Luke 2:8-14:
"And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone about them: and they were so afraid. And the angel said unto them, 'Fear not. For, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David, a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.' And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, 'Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.'"

I'd be lying if I said that part doesn't bring tears to my eyes every year. Maybe it's because it's one of the few things on tv during Christmastime that actually discusses what Christmas IS all about. Or maybe it's the sweet simplicity with which the story is told. It's probably both.

Either way, when I get gloomy with the state of Christmas and what it has become, I like to think of Charlie Brown and his buddies and, above all, the child who was born to die to save someone as unworthy as me. And when I think of those things, I feel like I'm able to overcome the sadness and the frustration Christmas never fails to bring me and feel only joy because I know I am celebrating the Savior.
A while ago I registered for my final semester at Drake. I'm still not sure how I feel about that. On one hand, the idea of having to make it through only one more semester, rounding out 16 years of schooling, is both thrilling and liberating.

Soon, I'll be able to buy calendars that run Jan-Dec. I'll be able to spend my evenings watching TV or hanging out with friends without feeling massively guilty about neglecting my homework, because there won't be homework to neglect. What a thought. I'll really feel like an adult then.

ON the other hand, it's kind of sad. Drake is home now and it's depressing a little to think of leaving. I left home in Colorado to come here and that was sad. It wasn't sad once I actually left. I missed home, but I was instantly distracted by all sorts of new things,so there wasn't really time to be sad. It was the last couple of months that was really sad because every day my impending, unavoidable departure got closer.

But nothing is ever meant to last forever. Nothing at all. It's weird to me that every now and then I lose sight of that. Sometimes I live in this weird fantasy and think maybe if I try hard enough, I can make it last forever.

But it's not supposed to be that way. And that makes sense. I don't think I'd fit in well here when I'm 80. Maybe it's not that I'm so attached to school... maybe I'm just afraid of the unknown.

It's probably both.
My roommate and her boyfriend celebrated their 3.5 year anniversary this weekend and, at long last, after months of wondering when it was going to happen, he popped the question. There's no ring or anything yet because he wants her to go with him to pick one out, but she refuses because he should know her well enough to know what she likes... boy do I love hearing them bicker about it.

I'm happy for them, though I have to say, the engagement didn't really change their relationship. I don't have experience with engagements, so I can't say I know if that's standard or not. But they were together before this, knew they were both serious, knew they'd be spending forever together, knew they'd get married ONE day. It just seemed like a formality or something. And I'm pretty sure he gave her a promise ring a while ago, so... I suppose they've been unofficially engaged for a while. Maybe this was just to make it Facebook-official.

They went to the Winter Festival at Clear Lake and spent the night in this nice suite and all that. There were carriage rides and the plan was to propose on the carriage ride, but the carriage ended up taking like 8 people instead of only 2 people, making it much too crowded for a proposal. Instead, he waited until they were back in their hotel room and started telling her all these sweet things (my favorite: I want to share a stove with you... I don't know why, but I found that adorable).

She fell asleep as he was talking. I don't know about you, but I'd probably perk up a little if my boyfriend looked like he was about to PROPOSE. He had to wake her up so he could finish. She said yes, of course, but was admittedly upset that the proposal wasn't some grand, romantic gesture of his love for her.

I take issue with her attitude for a variety of reasons: 1) SHUT UP! YOU'RE ENGAGED TO A MAN WHO WORSHIPS YOU. 2) She constantly said it didn't matter HOW he proposed, but apparently it did. 3) I'm sure it's scary beyond all reason to propose, so I don't think we should hold it against him that he was nervous.

She was also upset because he was saying "cliche things." That's probably true, but we can't all be writers. I don't think he was taking the easy way out or anything; it's just the best way he knows how to express himself.

To some extent I understand her frustration with the event as a whole because I know what it's like to have a moment played out in your head and have it turn out nothing like that, but I think she should be able to put that aside and be, I dunno, excited to be engaged? Call me crazy, but that would probably be my first reaction.
My 21st birthday is coming up and, lately, I've been hit repeatedly by the thought that when my parents were this age they were getting married and popping out babies. Ok, only two of them. We're not talking octo-mom or anything, but that doesn't erase the complete terror I feel when I think of ME having babies at this age.

Nope. Not happening.

I'm obviously quite happy that meeting, falling madly in love, getting married and starting a family at such a young age worked out so well for my 'rents (and me... duh), but I can honestly say I'm nowhere near ready for that.

Which is obviously a good thing since I'm single (and chronically so, it would seem).

That isn't to say I don't WANT to find my soul mate and curl up with him on the couch with blankets and watch the snow fall with the fake fireplace on the TV and Mannheim Steamroller playing softly in the background with the cat purring happily next to us and the Christmas tree all... wait... sorry, I'm getting carried away.

Yeah, that'd be great. Sign me up. Unfortunately, it's not that easy. Nor should it be, for that matter. I don't take this soul mate business lightly. Which is good, really, because I can help make up for all the morons who do (take it lightly, that is).

I want that more than anything in the world. But I don't want it just so I can say I have it. I don't want to have a boyfriend or fiance or whatever just so I can FINALLY click that box on Facebook that says "In a Relationship" (I admittedly wonder what that feels like).

I want someone I can rely on and trust. Someone who will love me the way I DESERVE to be loved. Someone who will give back to me all I give to him. Someone who cares. Someone who will make me a priority in his life as he will be a priority in mine. Someone who will treat me well and make me feel good about myself.

I deserve that. We all deserve that. And I refuse to settle until I find it. That could mean waiting another 21 years and, if that's the case, so be it. I don't doubt that someday that ship will come in.

In the meantime, I'm fine being with just me. I'm cool with being single. I don't feel ashamed or embarrassed going out alone.

I think we should all have the courage to dance by ourselves for a while. Besides, we have to be really good at dancing alone before we can learn to dance with someone else. That's what I think, anyway.
Generally, I hate it when people start their blog with an over the top "WELCOME TO MY BLOG!!!!!" in all caps like that as if they're shouting at you. Calm the heck down, kids. It's ok. Keep breathing. It's just a blog. I am excited, though. My blog is here and now so are you. So YAY!

Anywhoozle, I've been blogging for the past fiveish years or so and this is the first time I decided to move beyond the basic (read: boring) blogger templates and use something fancy. Naturally that's when the trouble started.

"How do I get rid of the Wordpress logo?"
"Why won't my blog title show up?"
"Why is my banner too small all of a sudden?"

And on and on and on. But it's ok because the blog is here and it looks good and I'm never, EVER dealing with HTML again.

I suppose a bit of introduction is needed. My name is Meagan, I'm a week and a half from my 21st birthday and 161 calendar days from graduating from Drake University with a degree in journalism (oh no!) and English.

I love Iowa, being outside, listening to music and being obsessive-compulsive.

That's all you get for now; I don't want to ruin all the surprises.

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