Sin City Here I Come: A (Not -Too) Late Birthday Present

THE WAY I SEE IT: Before I even turned the much-anticipated age of 21, I told myself (and so did my mother) that I would go to Vegas and be the best 21-year-old I could be. Translation: drink, gamble and do all of the reckless things I would not be able to do in a few years. This, however, never happened, and it was not long before I found myself in the same old routine: school, the occasional visit back home, the rare house party and the infrequent satisfaction of purchasing my own alcohol. Then I turned 22, and decided that this little “ring around the Vegas” had gone on long enough.

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