Lately, I don’t get mail. I just don’t. I’m not talking about the flyers for random poetry readings that you’ll never go to or a little notification that AmhPub is LAUNCHING! (Thanks guys, like we didn’t know). Everyone gets those. I’m talking good old fashioned personalized letters – don’t get them. So last week, when I pulled a large envelope from my mailbox with “Olivia Katrandjian” written with a blue marker in girly handwriting, I got excited. Someone spelled my name right?! Who the hell could it be?!?
My heart fluttered a little. My toes tingled. The excitement held fast as I ripped open the envelope and pulled out the card. Then, the typed words printed on the front hit me: “So We Hear It’s Your 21st Birthday…”
I stared at the words for a second as my eyebrows furrowed and my lips pursed into a quizzical expression. My birthday was not for another two weeks, but the computer image of a cake adorning the front of my new birthday card begged to differ.
I opened the card: a typed and capitalized “DEAR” juxtaposed an “Olivia” inserted with that same blue marker. Something was not right here. Something was not right at all.
I read on with a mixture of confusion and a foreboding sense of the coming disappointment that my personalized letter was not, in fact, personal at all: “If your birthday festivities include a jaunt to the bar…”
*A water bottle will match any outfit. And nothing says sexy like hydration.
*Dining before wining will keep you dancing all night long.
*Bestow the honor of “Designated Driver” on one of your most esteemed friends.
*Hold on to your pants and your drink. You don’t want any uninvited guests. (Me: “Wow.”)
*One drink per hour is kinder to both your liver and your friends’ wallets.
*Make the night memorable, but not because you vomited on your friend’s shoes. (Me: again, “Wow.”)
The card went on to list other ways to celebrate this “momentous occasion.” (Anyone want to go riding at the UMass stables? Give me a call). I wandered over to Schwemms and asked a few people if they had received anything similar on their 21st birthdays. After several “Uh, no…”s coupled with strange looks, I stopped asking. I was perplexed. Why had I gotten a card? Do I secretly have the reputation of a crazy drunk girl who needs to be warned several days in advance so she doesn’t hit 21 and go so crazy she never wakes up? (Me: “No…can’t be…I don’t even drink that much…”) Do I secretly drink so much that I don’t even remember doing it and no one’s ever clued me in?! WHAT’S GOING ON?!
I turned the card over and found the culprit: “Brought to you by: Amherst College Health Education.” But I still didn’t know who the girl was behind the pretty blue letters (or guy, not judging). Is she sending out cards to any of you…?