Being a first-year, I was pretty excited for my first D-Day. I had a trusted alcohol source: a senior my hallmate was dating.

Then everything changed.

When governors started locking down states, I went back to school to get my stuff: a case of Genny Ice (to share my newfound refined culture with my parents) and a case of Coronas (to participate in the public discourse). 

But then my parents said, “One beer a day, and you can’t drink until after lunch.” After lunch? What about the hour and a half that I’m awake before lunch? And drinks with lunch? How can I drown my loneliness in alcohol with just one beer a day? 

In these trying times, I deserve a bacchanal. And like going on Disneychannel.com, I would just have to get my parent’s permission first.

So, I approached my mom. My attempts to sway her began weeks ago, when I brought up the notion of depression-drinking and I made sure to imply that it was other people who were sad, not me. Then, a few days ago I made a joke about D-Day. Then, a half-joke. Then I just said I was gonna do it. By then she was desensitized to the idea and was chill with it. 

Next came my dad. This time I could simply reference my mom’s permission, and that got me 70% of the way there. School tradition got me the other 30%.

I started with my first drink in the late morning, around 10 a.m. This one I had to be slick about — I didn’t want to concern them. But it was also surprisingly strong. Or maybe I just haven’t been able to drink for a month and I’m losing my touch. 

By mid afternoon, I was hammered. I had to act sober through French class, but I sound French when I’m drunk anyways. Other people might have noticed if it hadn’t been online. Fringe benefit to Zoom classes! (Other fringe benefits of lockdown orders include making my dog happy and wearing only my underwear to class.)

I think I managed to act sober at dinner. I can’t really remember. AJR was there? But they didn’t have jackets even though I thought those were required. I don’t know.

On Saturday morning my dad didn’t really want to look at me. My mom seemed concerned about my health, she was giving me a lot of water. I tried to help her out because someone puked in the toilet, but that didn’t make it better. Anyways. Now I have to convince them to let me go back to college, if it ever reopens.



The Clothesline Project gives a voice to the unheard

The Clothesline Project was started in 1990 when founder Carol Chichetto hung a clothesline with 31 shirts designed by survivors of domestic abuse, rape, and childhood sexual assault.

Furries on UR campus?

A few months ago, as I did my daily walk to class through the tunnels to escape the February cold,…

Time unfortunately still a circle

Ever since the invention of the wheel, humanity’s been blessed with one terrible curse: the realization that all things are, in fact, cyclical.