As of Thursday, after the completion of a shitty three-hour exam, my first semester of grad school has officially ended. My favorite classmates –our little foursome group –celebrated with cocktails (and invited the rest of class because we don’t want to be ‘that’ group). The bar close to campus served Nightly Specials (even at age 25, how can you hate on $1 beers?) and by 9pm, we were all slightly buzzed. And further intoxicated with feelings of liberation. Because it was a Thursday! And we were drinking! Even though we have professional careers in the morning! Hangovers be damned!

My two cocktails must have gone straight through my empty stomach to my head, as it started to bob to the up-tempo beat of the pop music. To which I was immediately caught.

“Uh, Molly, what are you doing?”

“I’m happy! And I love this song!” (It’s not like I was singing along – even though I totally wanted to …)

“Um, no. You need to stop that. Now.”

My classmate then had to remind me that we were in an UNDERGRAD bar and had to play it COOL, to blend with the 19 year-olds, who are used to getting drunk every night – much less a THURSDAY which is practically the weekend –none of whom feel like dancing as early as NINE. We had already lost major cool points from the early hour –proper undergrads were still at home pre-partying and applying extra mascara –and therefore needed to act EXTRA BLASÉ. Being excited about getting drunk on a Thursday is just not done.

After another hour or so, the undergrads flooded the bar with their fake IDs, and we could barely have a conversation – the music was so LOUD! –so we found a bar downtown, staying out until TWELVE THIRTY. After midnight ON A SCHOOL NIGHT. Well, not school, but you know. Still pretty badass.