1. The only grown ass men whose approval you seek are the bouncers at the bars downtown. Incidentally, they are they only men who ever deny you.
2. You know the kind of clothes you like, but sadly, you’ve spilled wine on all of them.
3. You prefer to hang around heterosexual men most of the time because they make the best drinking buddies. However, you cannot keep up with them. Stop trying, for your liver’s sake.
4. You make it a point to apologize in advance for your behavior tonight.
5. You willingly let your house get trashed for keggers. You’ve found beer bottles in the dishwasher, fifths in the washing machine, and cigarettes in the toilet.
6. You create aliases, lie about your age, and have successfully convinced an entire party that you were a foreign exchange student from Spain. Honesty and Heineken never make a good mixed drink.
7. You critique politicians ruthlessly by the time your BAC reaches .05. You can only wholly explain the Arab-Israeli conflict after the third beer and you have Pabst Blue Ribbon to thank for the ‘A’ in that class.
8. You can never master the headstand in yoga class, but a keg stand is a weekly ritual.
9. You’ve had a conversation wherein you and your friends determined that since beer has yeast and bread has yeast, beer is bread; therefore, a beer first thing in the morning is no less nutritious than a piece of toast.
10. You wake up in your party clothes from the night before, add a blazer, and head out to work.
11. Blood is thicker than water, but margaritas are thicker than blood. Caribbean family vacations tend to involve all three.
12. You’re not jealous of your Olympian friend because you’ve competed in Beer Olympics on several occasions.
13. You compliment the bartender and the men surrounding the bar incessantly. He’s kinda cute; moreover, he’ll get you free drinks.
I’m in no rush to become a grown ass woman. If we skip the nights of stumbling down dimly lit boulevards and belting out “Sweet Caroline” at karaoke night and making friends with homeless street performers, we’ll have nothing to reminisce about when we’re tired and grey. Eventually, we’ll have to turn in our Barefoot bottles for baby bottles and fake IDs for business cards. But until then—be wild, be free, be young.