september 28

I have spent nearly two whole days being one score old and already I feel ancient. Twenty puts me at two decades; a fifth of a century; halfway to my midlife crisis. I realize that birthdays are entirely arbitrary, but there’s something about waking up on that morning that makes me long for the youth of yesteryear. If you know me, you know I’ve never been the slaphappy gift monger that most people are on their special days. Rather, I tend to sulk and reminisce until the clock hits 12:41am (the exact time of my birth – I draw it out until the very end) and there’s nothing more I can do about it. But you know what? Having il mio compleanno nel Firenze wasn’t so shabby. I sipped wine during the day, then went out to a pub at night. It really felt like I was working the system, as I got a jumpstart on the big “two one” celebration, but we’ll just call this rehearsal for next year. Then I hung out with some Gonzaga kids, went to a nifty little discotheque, and then on to an Italian house party – that one was pretty fun, as I got to chill with those rambunctious native youngsters in their element. And yes, it was awesome being the novelty in the crowd. The flat was also near the train station, so I got a little taste of the darker, racier side of Florence, though nothing exciting happened. However, I did discover that the bathrooms have blue lights, which is apparently meant to ensure that heroin users can’t find veins and shoot up in the stalls. Charming, really. (Mom, Dad, you’re going to love that one. But I’m 20 now and there’s nothing you can do about it.) And though the world was bathed in sunshine, rainbows, and lemon drops when I entered it, sadly, it rained most of yesterday. Thus, I stopped at a little street vendor on the Ponte Vecchio to purchase an umbrella, but as I was in no position to barter for one of the cool ones with Boticelli or cupid graphics, I settled for the cheap ugly one. Big mistake. Not halfway to my destination did the unsightly thing break, and I was left to fumble with it for fifteen minutes/fend for myself in the downpour. I felt like I was in the Zoloft commercial, being followed by that rainy depression cloud. My expedition was going to require a little more skill. When I spotted a raging stream of water pouring from a roof on my little jaunt through the city (clearly originating from some sort of gutter) I strategically dodged it. But apparently the gutter must have been so intriguing that I had to take a look back up at it once I had passed, and I subsequently got nailed in the face with another jet stream of rain from some other godforsaken gutter. So far I’m reppin pretty poorly for all those other twenty year olds. Guys, I apologize. Hopefully I’ll get better at this whole “older and wiser” thing, but until then, please sit back and enjoy my indiscretions. It would be a shame to see them go to waste.